


Effanineffable

by Spectral_Aspen



Series: Cats Shed Like Woah [1]
Category: Harry Potter - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Character, Canonical Child Abuse, Feline Characters, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I talk about places in the british isles even though I've never been to any of them, Parent-Child Relationship, Pets, Runes, at one point I owned 4 cats at the same time and it shows, awkward parent, but that wasn't already a tag, how to parent when not used to children, just the one OFC really, just the potentially plural option was, minor magical worldbuilding, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectral_Aspen/pseuds/Spectral_Aspen
Summary: An adult meets Harry and actually gives a damn about his childhood, while being awkward and confused in the process.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Cats Shed Like Woah [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743451
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	1. The Gate Was Locked

**Author's Note:**

> Effanineffable  
> -made by smushing the words effable and ineffable together  
> -got it by looking up cat poems (https://poets.org/poem/naming-cats)  
> -apparently also relevant to asexuality, which was a happy enough coincidence that it became The Chosen Title.
> 
> I was very tempted to call this story “Fools in Old-Style Hats and Coats,” which would have been a reference to this poem (which has the 'F' word, so... NSFW?):
> 
> [ https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/theverse.html ](https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/theverse.html)
> 
> It is one of my favourite poems ever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two main characters meet!
> 
> This starts with a quote from The Philosopher's Stone, don't worry I'm going to do it every chapter. It just segued nicely into the start of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added little images to the starts of all my chapters on the google doc I'm using, but adding images here has never been a skill I posses. Even the word-doc-to-html converters I use didn't help... so the image for this chapter can be found here:
> 
> [ _ https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-straw-sun-hat-with-blue-ribbon-beachwear-116535566.html _ ](https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-straw-sun-hat-with-blue-ribbon-beachwear-116535566.html)

1

_“When he wasn’t doing chores Harry spent as much time out of the house as he could in order to avoid Dudley and his gang. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all very big and stupid, but because Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of them all he was the leader and they all came to the house every day before going out to bully younger children. Of course, that was when they didn’t start a round of their favourite game: Harry Hunting. Despite his size Harry was incredibly fast, and he always had the best places to hide, so more often than not he made it back to the house in the evenings without being beaten.” Chapter 3, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_

HP

Harry ducked behind a fence, pressing his back hard against a closed gate. His chest heaved, and his legs trembled with exhaustion as he rested his head against the wood for a moment. Dudley and his gang of bullies had been chasing him all around the neighbourhood for what felt like days. All the adults that weren’t out at work just thought the boys were all playing a game of tag or something similar; not that there were many who weren’t at work. Private Drive and the surrounding area was filled with what Aunt Petunia liked to call “Perfectly Normal People.” This meant they all had regular day jobs, with regular spouses who also had day jobs or, in the case of many of the wives, stayed at home cleaning and gardening and other wifely things. 

Harry flinched as he heard the voices of Dudley and his gang getting louder, wishing desperately that something would happen to help him. He was just so tired. Aunt Petunia had “helped” him cook breakfast, meaning she hovered over his shoulder while he cooked and smacked him whenever she thought he was doing something wrong. 

Just as he resigned himself to another few hours of running and hiding he stumbled backwards as his back suddenly wasn’t meeting the expected support of the gate, tripping through the suddenly open door. His breath rushed out of him, but he quickly scrambled to close and lock the gate, carefully pressing his ear to the wood and holding his breath as the loud and terrifying sounds of Dudley and his gang raced past his hiding place. 

His chest rose and fell in one large breath, a huge sigh escaping him as the sounds of the four boys faded away. Slowly he felt his back scraping against the closed door, his legs finally giving out now that the danger was past. 

“Well,” Harry’s head whipped up, emerald eyes locking with cloudy grey, “this certainly isn’t how I expected my day to go.”

The woman who had spoken had a strange accent, the words coming out similarly to the Hollywood stars in shows Dudley like to watch but not quite. She was wearing a green sundress and was sitting on a lawn chair, a small table next to her had a clear glass full of what looked like water and ice and had an oddly bright little blue umbrella in it, and her massive sun hat had a matching blue ribbon. 

“Thirsty?” The glass was held in his direction, little blue umbrella swirling around as it shifted and the ice _clicked_ together. 

Harry stared up at the lady in bewilderment from his slouch against the door, hands resting firmly on the crunchy dead grass of the lady’s backyard. 

She frowned down at Harry as he continued to pant heavily, still catching his breath after his exhausting trial through the neighbourhood. 

“You raise a good point,” her head tilted as she considered him, “you probably shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers.” Her glass settled carefully back on the small table with a quiet _clink_.

The sound jolted Harry out of his stupor and he scrambled to stand up, trembling legs obvious as he rested heavily against the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he said desperately, “I didn’t mean to break in!” The woman continued to stare at him, but her steady gaze reminded him a bit of Aunt Petunia when she was trying to think of unpleasant chores to give him as punishment for something he’d screwed up. “I promise, I don’t know how the gate unlocked! I’m so sorry! I just needed to hide but I can leave now I promise!” 

Her eyebrow raised in a way Harry remembered seeing people do on TV whenever he managed to catch a glimpse of a movie one of the Dursleys was watching. 

“Well now, it’s quite easy to explain the gate, Little One.” Her expression didn’t change, nor did her gaze waver, “You opened it with magic. Accidental magic, to be precise” 

Harry felt his heart stop. 

“You are a wizard.”

_____________________

LJ

Lucia had intended for her day off to be peaceful, not full of strange wizarding children. Mind, it was only the one (so far), but that was still one more than had been anticipated and she just knew it was going to throw off her whole day. 

She sighed quietly as the child continued to stare at her, he hadn’t spoken since she told him that he was a wizard. The poor thing was still trembling like a leaf, and as Lucia continued to observe him she noticed he was painfully thin and appeared exhausted. Was the boy homeless? It would certainly explain why his clothes were far too big, and why he had no idea he was a wizard.

“What is your name, Little One?” Maybe the child was simply a poor, lost muggleborn whose family name she could look up in the phonebook. 

The boy was obviously hesitant to answer. Undoubtedly he’d been told to avoid strangers as most children are, but as Lucia continued to lounge in her chair without moving beyond taking small sips of water he seemed to relax a little. 

“My name is Harry Potter, ma’am.” Lucia paused, her glass of water halfway to the table, before deliberately focusing on placing the glass precisely within the little ring of condensation on the table. How on Earth had the famous Harry Potter ended up in her backyard? Why did he appear so tired? Had he been chased here by angry wizards? But no, she’d only heard children run past before the boy collapsed on her yard. 

She had chosen this neighbourhood because she wanted to be left alone to work, damnit, not be drawn into the political mess surrounding Britain’s precious Boy-Who-Lived. Despite nobody knowing where he lived, for the child’s safety (though Lucia was beginning to doubt that considering the current circumstances), the people of Britain were far too focused on the child despite his age. Lucia could hardly imagine all the fuss that would arise when the poor thing was recognized in a public magical area for the first time.

She stared at the boy, her gaze unerringly drawn to his forehead where the fabled scar was partially hidden by his limp, sweaty hair. 

Well. This certainly complicated things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I have 8 or 9 chapters written already, with lots of little bits and pieces in addition to that. I'll try to update the main story every Saturday or Sunday (and I go by PST (AKA UTC-8)).


	2. The Light Was (Not) Fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two main characters very quickly part!
> 
> Also, the cats show up!  
> (sorry if you don't like cats! they're secondary characters that won't be going away any time soon!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image I used for this chapter can be found here: https://www.illustrationsource.com/stock/image/504864/light-shining-from-palm-of-mans-hand/?&results_per_page=1&detail=TRUE&page=42

2

HP

The lady had hardly moved since Harry told her his name. She was staring intently at his forehead for some reason, and Harry could feel his heart start to race again. Why had telling her his name caused such a strong reaction? Did she know him from somewhere? How could she recognize his name? Did she know his parents? Had Aunt Petunia’s awful rumours about him spread this far?

“Well,” she said slowly, gesturing to the chair on the other side of her small table, “do you want to sit down?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to stare at the lady. He still didn’t even know her name and she wanted him to sit down next to her? Harry had heard Aunt Petunia telling Dudley about “Stranger Danger” a while ago and he knew he should be leaving right about now. 

No matter how pretty she was Harry didn’t know anything about her, and he knew that nice looking people weren’t always very nice. Harry had seen Miss Stephens in Number 8 kick her dog out the door because he sat on the couch once even though she always held dinner parties that Aunt Petunia was invited to and smiled at all the children on the street except for him, and Mister Mosby in Number 12 on Picket Post Close always yelled horrible things at the children that walked on his grass and threatened them despite looking like he should be a nice old man.

“Not really,” he said. 

She smiled a little bit at that, and Harry was surprised to see that she wasn’t angry or upset with him. Usually when he refused to do things that adults asked (but were really ordering) you to do, they got mad and their faces turned red. Even though he was much further than the woman’s grabbing range, Harry reassured himself that he could always run away if she did anything bad or scary, or even try to appear somewhere else like that time he teleported onto the school roof. Hopefully, because the Dursleys weren’t around, they wouldn’t find out somehow and punish him again for doing something freakish.

“How about you tell me about yourself, and you can sit wherever you want to?” 

Harry slowly took a few steps forward, moving away from the solid form of the gate. He sat on her lawn, hands gently pulling up some of her dry brown grass. Most of the lawn was weeds and dead grass, and Harry could see some moss by the house where it was shady. Aunt Petunia would be horrified, and would probably refuse to set foot on a lawn like this. 

“What’s your name?”

She looked surprised for a moment. “Oh dear, how rude of me. My name is Lucia, Mr. Potter. Lucia Jauncey.” 

“Lucia?” Harry mouthed the word to himself a few times. It sounded strange to him even without her different accent, but he knew better than to say such a thing out loud.

She smiled nicely at him again and nodded, “Yes, I was named after my cousin. I’m not entirely sure why, mind you, but that is apparently where my name comes from.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was just glad he hadn’t been named after Dudley.

The two sat in silence for a minute, quietly assessing each other and waiting for the other to speak first.

“I’m sure you’re at least a little curious about what I said earlier? When I called you a wizard?”

Harry froze, “Magic isn’t real.” The Dursleys had made that very clear over the years.

Lucia snorted in a manner that would have scandalized Aunt Petunia. 

“Oh really?” Her arm rose straight out in front of her, palm down and pointing forwards at nothing in particular. “Tell me how I do this, then.”

She released a breath, wiggled her fingers, and said the word _lumos_ while moving her pointer finger in an upwards arrow motion (^).

For a moment Harry didn’t believe anything would happen, but then the end of Lucia’s finger started glowing. The light was yellowish and gently pulsed in time with Lucia’s breathing. Then Lucia narrowed her eyes and turned her hand so her fingers were straight and her palm was facing up. Harry watched in amazement as the light appeared to roll into the center of her palm, and the light seemed to glow brighter for a moment before silently going out. 

Harry stared at the space where the light had been for a moment longer before tearing his eyes from Lucia’s now-empty palm. 

Unbidden, memories of Aunt Petunia shrieking “Magic does NOT exist!” and turning off the TV came to mind, alongside memories of the punishments Harry received for causing “freakish” thing to happen. For a moment Harry felt his shoulder ache, could hear the horrible sound of it popping out of place as Vernon threw him across the living room from the kitchen when a plate Harry had dropped hovered over the floor instead of breaking. Dozens of other incidents flashed in Harry’s mind, aches and pains echoing throughout his body as he unwillingly remembered exactly what his relatives thought of “magic”. Harry scooted backwards away from Lucia until he could feel the solid wood of the fence door at his back.

Lucia was leaning forwards, not leaving her chair or making a move towards him, but clearly looking concerned, “Harry? Are you alright Little One?”

Harry shook his head, magic couldn’t possibly exist. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had made it perfectly clear that magic was one of the many things that are Not Acceptable. No matter how nice Lucia seemed to be, she was talking about magic and that made her scary and Not Okay to be around. 

What if Harry’s Aunt and Uncle somehow knew he’d met Lucia? That she’d made her hand glow somehow, and that she was using the ‘M’ word and trying to tell Harry that he had magic?

All of a sudden Harry felt the urge to leave, he needed to get out of here and away from any and all mentions of magic and go home where, even if it wasn’t totally safe, at least the danger was predictable. 

_____________________

LJ

Lucia watched as Harry’s expression turned from one of wonder to one of fear, uncharacteristic worry rising within her. The boy scrambled up and left without another word, the gate banging against the fence as he slammed it open and sprinted away with all due haste. 

Her lips twisted as she considered what to do. Going after him herself would probably scare him off permanently, and it would be a little creepy for her to run after a child she’d just met after somehow managing to utterly terrifying him.

“Meow.”

Lucia looked down to her left at Dionysus, her dark red-brown kneazle, as he too stared in the direction Harry had run.

Perfect.

“You should follow him.”

Dionysus looked up at her, back at the door, then back again at her. His tufted tail curling up over his back as he stretched, paws kneading the moss and dead grass beneath him. After a few more moments he huffed, shook himself, and then stalked off towards the open gate, only looking back once before disappearing into the alley as if to say, “this was _entirely_ my idea.”

Lucia waited a moment before standing to close the gate, hand hovering over the lock before sliding it shut. If Harry ever needed to get back in then he could unlock it again, seeing as he had already done it once before.

Then again, he could also knock on the front door.

Rolling her eyes at herself, Lucia scowled. Such quick and irrational attachment was very unlike her, and it was incredibly irritating. This ridiculous sentiment over a child, especially one as politically complicated as the Potter child, would only end up causing so much more work for herself that it would hardly be worth any effort she put in. Walking back into her house she swiped the empty glass of water off the table, steps slow as she contemplated her next course of action.

The indignant “ _Rowr_ ” of her second pet (benevolent overlord), Abaddon, startled Lucia out of her quiet reflection. Abaddon was a many-times descendant of a Silver Cat, a deadly feline creature found in the forests of northern North America. While Abaddon did not possess the characteristic ball with spikes at the end of his tail he did enjoy sitting atop the highest perch in any particular room, and dangling from the underside of tree branches in order to land on unsuspecting passers-by; the fur at the end of his tail was also surprisingly course and sharp, dangerous enough to cut if he swiped at someone’s unprotected skin. The little black-blue devil cat was currently sitting atop her fridge, and Lucia could tell he was judging her.

She scowled at him, “Oh be quiet you.” She moved to scratch his ears, and he continued to stare her down impassively. “You’re no help at all.”

With a huff Lucia stalked into her living room, pacing absentmindedly as she went back to considering her potential plans of action and ignoring the silent stare coming from the top of her fridge.

The easiest option would, of course, be to ignore everything that just happened and continue about her day-to-day life as previously planned. That would, also, be the logical course of action for her to take. As an adult who had no idea what kind of home life the boy has, and who was a literal stranger, she had no business interfering with anything.

That option did not sit well with her though, and already she could feel her pathetic empathy overriding her sense of logic. At the very least young Harry was being underfed and bullied, and at the most he was being subjected to far, far worse.

The extreme opposite of leaving the whole thing be would include kidnapping him. While having the benefit of placing Harry safely under her care, it would have the adverse effect of being completely illegal and could also terrify the poor boy and/or cause him to hate her. Neither attitude would be conducive to a positive relationship, and the illegality would cause problems down the line when someone noticed what she’d done (whenever that may end up occurring). With the boy’s future political clout the ramifications of that course of action would be undoubtedly catastrophic for herself, and even if she somehow convinced the boy to like her the public would have no problem dragging her through the mud and calling for her blood.

A nice medium would be to keep an eye on the boy and offer assistance and guidance where possible. If anything was seriously wrong, then, after gathering evidence, she could step in. Involving the British Ministry would be optional depending on the situation, though considering the position her cousin held within the Ministry it was possible any “official,” and thus technically legal, actions could be easily hidden and overlooked in her favour. 

Lucia nodded decisively to herself, happy medium it was. Keeping an eye on the boy would also get her out of the house. While she was only living here temporarily, it would be nice to get to know the neighbourhood. Getting some sun would also do wonders for her pale skin, provided she didn’t burn immediately as was her usual. 

Putting the glass down in the kitchen Lucia leaned against the counter, letting the hard edge bite into her hands as she put her weight against it. 

“Cally?”

With a near-silent pop a small house elf appeared in front of her. 

“Yes Miss Lucy?”

Lucia smiled down at her friend, “Would you mind letting me know when Dionysus comes back in? I am going to be extra busy this evening and I doubt I would notice unless he jumped on me.”

Cally nodded, large ears flopping back and forth, “Of course Miss Lucy. Cally will be doing that for you.”

With a quiet smile Lucia left the kitchen and descended into her basement. It wasn’t very large, originally it had just been big enough for a boiler and laundry machines. Lucia had expanded it enough that she could just fit all the supplies she needed, including a shelving unit for storage. 

The kind of enchanting that Lucia made her livelihood out of didn’t require too many tools. Her most important tool was her Rune Pen, and she had a drawer full of different kinds that she’d either made herself or received as gifts during her travels. The rest of the space was filled with commissions she was working on; Utterly Enchanted was the small business she’d started a few years after graduating while travelling the world. Runes had always been her speciality, and after school she’d wanted to learn as much as she possibly could from as many different people and cultures as she could conceivably reach on her own. Though she’d learned a great deal about all kinds of rune-based jobs; ward-master, curse-breaker, threadwitch, librarian, and architect being just a small few, she’d found enchanting every-day items to be unexpectedly useful was where her true interests lay.

She had started by selling little things in farmers markets, a small, stylised UE somewhere on every piece. Then, as she’d continued travelling and building her knowledge base, she’d been able to sell more and more unique items that drew people’s interest. Mixing runes and forms from different historical magical alphabets and hieroglyphics had become her speciality, and it certainly paid well. 

Making a clear space on her work table, Lucia pulled out an old bracelet she’d been meaning to work on as a backup present in case she ever forgot someone’s birthday (not that she had that many friends she cared about enough to bother gifting something). The aluminum band was shiny, thin, lightweight, and completely blank; a testament to how often she’d put off working on it. 

Now that she had a recipient in mind instead of an abstract figure, though, she could picture possible outcomes for the bracelet. Thoughts and ideas whirled about in her head as she stared at the simple band. Some kind of protection, both magical and physical, would be necessary. Perhaps strengthening runes, to improve Harry’s constitution and help make up for his less-than-healthy state? Yes, that would be a good idea. A few basic immunological booster formulae would also be good, undoubtedly the follow-up vaccinations required for wizarding children had been neglected if he was living in such a muggle neighbourhood as the ones in this area.

The option to make the band invisible would be a good one, considering how poor the boy looked. An engraved bracelet would likely be stolen rather quickly, but an invisible one? Hopefully that would stay in his possession for a good long while.

She would have to create these enchantments carefully. The size of the band was limiting, but that was a problem she could easily work around. A completing string of enchantments would be made up of groups of three, with seven groups total. It would make a powerful set to work with. Three and seven were magically significant numbers, especially within Europe*, and would strengthen the bracelet in a way that made up for the small size and limited space to work with. Considering how small she could engrave, Lucia figured she would be able to repeat the set three times, which would further strengthen the entire thing. The end result would be a powerful bracelet that would be quick to make and would work well with the materials at hand.

Tilting the band so it shone in the light of her basement, Lucia wondered if perhaps she should add a gemstone or two. They would have the benefit of strengthening certain enchantments, but would draw more attention than the band would on its own when visible. It would also be a little more bulky, and she always disliked adding accessories to what was already a perfectly simple, elegant, and functional product. 

Maybe she could save a gemstone for a necklace in the future. Harry’s birthday, July 31st, was public knowledge (and something her nephew apparently wouldn’t shut up about), and birthstones could hold powerful magics. They could also, if cut properly, connect with a wizard’s own magical core to either store magic in or to strengthen any enchantments it held. An enchanted ruby necklace would be a good gift for Harry, should he ever deign to see her again.

A lesser known fact was that rubies had a connection with the rune sowilo. Having gotten a good look at the boy’s scar Lucia could honestly say that its appearance was incredibly similar to the rune. Whether such a shape was intentional or not, hopefully that possible additional connection would strengthen the magics she’d place within the ruby.

If she ever made him a necklace, that is.

But she was getting ahead of herself. All of that was for the future, nebulous as it may be considering they had only met once for a few moments and the boy had proceeded to run away from her in terror. For now the band would have to do.

Casually adjusting the setting on her glasses to ‘work mode’, significantly magnifying her vision to enable smaller and neater engravings and to highlight any imperfections that may be present in the metal to be worked out, with, or around, Lucia dug through her pens until she got to the one that had a ruby on the end. If she could not give the boy a ruby now, she would imbue some of its magic in the band and hope for the best. Regardless of his home (or homeless) life, the boy appeared to need all the help he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (very long headcanon ahead)  
> *I headcanon that different cultures have different magically significant numbers, and that it’s not so much the numbers themselves that are significant but the _belief_ that people have that those numbers are significant that makes them so. For example, I say that three (and seven, but I know more examples with three) is magically powerful in Europe. The three Fates; the maiden, mother, and crone; the three Norns; the three-leafed clover/shamrock; the Holy Trinity (The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost) in Christianity; three wishes from a magical creature (genie, leprechaun); the three petals of an iris flower apparently stand for faith, wisdom, and courage, and the flower as a whole was named for the Greek Goddess Iris; three different scripts written on the Rosetta Stone; there are loads more (seriously, _loads)_ but from what I’ve found most of them seem to have originated in Europe, Asia, and Africa, not the Americas (though I could be wrong).   
> With this headcanon I believe that four is equally (if not more) magically significant in North America... or... at least in Canada amongst the Coast Salish (the aboriginal people I’m most familiar with). The medicine wheel has four sections, yellow, red, black, and white; there are four seasons; four cardinal directions; four parts that make a whole person (heart, soul, body, and mind); elements of life (sun, moon, earth, and stars); elements of the Earth (fire water, earth, air); four major periods of growth (baby, adolescent, adult, elder) etc.   
> So, what all that means, is that magic using the number three would be more powerful in, say, Europe, because there have been so many people over the centuries believing that the number holds significance that it has become an actually powerful number. Thus, the number four, a number that has been incredibly significant in places like western Canada (at the very least) would hold more magical power there.
> 
> TL;DR-What I really wanted to accomplish with this headcannon was a reason for a number other than three or seven, the two numbers I see most mentioned in fics as magically powerful, to exist and be culturally significant.
> 
> Thoughts? Likes and dislikes? Critiques? Headcannons of your own? Intense hatred (or love) for all of my worldbuilding?
> 
> I started this fic because I really wanted an actual, loving parental figure in Harry's life to rescue him from the Dursleys, and some more magical North American lore. I have backstory for Lucia that will go into more detail about that, which I have a fair bit written and which will be posted... eventually... that does the North American lore bit far more than this fic does.
> 
> Wow this is a long end note. Congrats for reading it (or skipping to the end).


	3. Enter: Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucia finds herself emoting, and is very awkward about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dionysus is adorable, and based on one of my own cats (he’s only part kneazle, but honestly Lucia mostly thinks of his as _that fluffy shedding bastard_ so she calls him a kneazle because it’s shorter than “many-times-kneazle-descendant” or “minimally-kneazle” or “house-cat-kneazle-hybrid”).
> 
> This is what I think of Dionysus as looking like (sorry the link is so long, I tried the actual webpage and the image didn't work for me so I figured better safe than sorry). This is not what my actual cat looks like, he's orange and white, but he's just as fluffy so I can honestly say that I am not exaggerating when I describe how much he sheds.
> 
> [ https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://t0.gstatic.com/images?q%3Dtbn:ANd9GcT2sMk3TP9KIxs93GWK3XaLORS3cQ7WmILmjpB_Dt2oLmQ2TI7E&imgrefurl=https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f%3D7%26t%3D3088654%26p%3D99493993&h=390&w=512&tbnid=MCFascDQGEGyAM&tbnh=196&tbnw=257&hcb=1&usg=AI4_-kRbfASyEKGwtPvHUFsVugHCiFtp0Q&ved=0ELLNBQgAKAAwAA&docid=JiBdfZP-lPR8VM&hcb=1 ](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://t0.gstatic.com/images?q%3Dtbn:ANd9GcT2sMk3TP9KIxs93GWK3XaLORS3cQ7WmILmjpB_Dt2oLmQ2TI7E&imgrefurl=https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f%3D7%26t%3D3088654%26p%3D99493993&h=390&w=512&tbnid=MCFascDQGEGyAM&tbnh=196&tbnw=257&hcb=1&usg=AI4_-kRbfASyEKGwtPvHUFsVugHCiFtp0Q&ved=0ELLNBQgAKAAwAA&docid=JiBdfZP-lPR8VM&hcb=1)

HP

Weeding Petunia’s garden was one of Harry’s favourite chores. Ever since he’d been “properly taught” to garden to Aunt Petunia’s standards he was allowed to do it on his own. Not only was he allowed outside, but Dudley always left him alone after that one time he stepped on one of Aunt Petunia’s tulips and she actually grounded him for one whole day. 

“Meow.”

Harry looked up as the strange dark red cat stalked purposefully across the lawn. It had first showed up the day Harry met Lucia. Ever since then it had appeared at least once a day, sometimes staying around Harry for hours. The odd looking cat had long, soft fur aside from its super poofy tail tip, and its eyes were as yellow as the sunflowers Mrs. Alliston had in her garden. There was something about it that made it seem  _ more  _ than a cat, though. Harry thought it was the way the cat seemed really smart. It looked both ways before crossing the road, it sat in a tree until Dudey walked by and then pushed an empty bird nest on him, and on the third day watching Harry the odd cat had even brought him a chocolate chip cookie. Harry had no idea where the cat got the cookie, but it was delicious (even if he did have to pick cat fur out of his mouth after eating it). 

He would have called the cat by its name, but the fluffy creature wasn’t wearing a collar. Harry figured it was smart enough to find its way home without getting caught. He’d considered naming it, but that seemed rude when he didn’t know if it belonged to anyone or if it was a boy or a girl cat.

The cat lounged next to him, rolling around on its back and getting grass in its fur. It was too poofy to tell its gender, and Harry thought it would be rude to stare. He looked around carefully, in case Aunt Petunia was looking, but the cat never came over if she was around. Another sign of its super intelligence. 

Harry turned back to his gardening, sneaking glances at the cat every few minutes as he worked. After rolling around long enough to leave a visible layer of fur on the grass the cat stood up and ambled over to him. Harry was leaning over to search the garden bed for weeds, and the cat took advantage of his position to leap up and settle itself across his shoulders with its tail dangling down and flicking Harry’s chin. 

Harry thought that, from a distance, it might look like a big fluffy scarf.

“I see you and Dionysus are getting along well.”

Harry jerked upright, the sudden motion causing the cat to dig its claws in deep enough that Harry had a feeling he was bleeding. 

When he turned around he saw Lucia standing on the sidewalk a few feet away. 

She frowned. “I didn’t mean to cause you injury, Mr. Potter. My apologies.” She looked around, eyeing the empty neighbourhood with a critical eye.

“I could heal you, if you’ll give permission.” She smiled at Harry, “I can honestly say that I know from experience how sharp kneazle claws can be.”

Harry carefully rubbed the cat’s head, a bubbly feeling rising in his chest when the cat nudged his hand and started purring.

“What’s a kneazle?”

Lucia looked surprised. “Dionysus is a kneazle,” she stopped and grimaced. “I don’t mean the Greek God Dionysus was secretly a kneazle, I mean the cat-like creature on your shoulders is named Dionysus and he is a kneazle.”

Harry turned his head to look at the cat -Dionysus- and got a mouth full of fur for his troubles. He turned away and tried to wipe his tongue clean, breathing through his nose to keep from inhaling any more fur. 

“He’s very nice,” Harry eventually said. Lucia was still standing on the sidewalk, but she looked amused.

“I’m glad you think so, but you should know he’s actually a little asshole.” She winced, “Shit, am I allowed to swear in front of you? Is there a rule about swearing in front of kids before they’re a certain age?”

Harry stared, utterly bewildered by how Lucia was acting compared to last time he’d met her. “I don’t think so.”

Lucia started to mutter to herself, and Harry felt safe turning his back on her to continue gardening while Dionysus was stretched across him.

“I was serious, you know.” Harry turned back to her, surprised to see her staring so intently at him. “About healing you, and I don’t just mean the scratches.” She ran a hand through her hair, eyes flitting to the windows of the house before landing back on Harry. “If you’re hurt, or hungry, or something else that you’d maybe need help for, I can do that. Provide help, I mean.”

She winced, “I definitely could have said that better.”

As if sensing Harry’s growing confusion and distraction Dionysus hopped off Harry’s shoulders and started pulling up weeds with his mouth, carefully avoiding Aunt Petunia’s flowers, not that either Harry or Lucia noticed. 

“What do you mean?”

Lucia huffed and put her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “You look hungry, Little One. I know it’s probably weird to have adult you don’t know very well offer you food, but if you’re ever near my place while hurt or hungry feel free to stop by and I can give you some food and fix you up.”

Harry sat back and crossed his legs, turning himself to face Lucia head-on. All his life he’d hated how the Dursleys treated him. In the dark of his cupboard he’d wished for someone to take him away far too many times to bother counting.

In every single dream, that person was family. Now someone was being nice, and while she wasn’t family and she hadn’t offered to take him away, she was offering a lot more than any adult ever had before. Even though Harry knew how awful people could be no matter how nice they looked, he was very tempted to go with her. She’d looked at Hary long enough to see past the too-big clothes and messy hair and she’d found where Harry lived and offered him help. Maybe she’d stop when she met Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and they told her all the lies and rumours they’d come up with to trick people into thinking Harry was a horrible delinquent they’d been burdened with and cared for out of the goodness of their hearts (or something), but for some reason Harry didn’t think she would. Lucia talked to her cat-kneazle-thing and was awkward around children in a way that tried to be nice but just missed the mark, she didn’t invade his personal space, she didn’t grab Harry when he ran away from her, and so far she asked before doing anything that would have an effect on Harry.

Maybe, just maybe, she was an actually nice person who would continue to be nice even after a possible meeting with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. She was nice enough to have an awesome cat-creature-thing like Dionysus who was nice and smart and looked healthy and well looked after, even though she had magic. Maybe she’d actually help Harry if he ever asked for it.

He tugged gently at a blade of grass, even now not daring to pull it up out of the ground on the off chance Aunt Petunia somehow found out and punished him for “defiling” her precious lawn. Dionysus was still pulling weeds, and Harry took a deep breath, raising his head to meet Lucia’s gaze.

“Okay.”

LJ

Surprisingly, despite completely forgetting the planned speech when she arrived at Number 4, Privet Drive, Harry agreed to accept her help. 

When she’d seen him with Dionysus across his frail little shoulders she felt an odd sensation in her chest where her heart was. In hindsight it was probably compassion or some such rot, but in the moment it had risen up in her throat and made it hard to get the speech she’d prepared out. That speech hadn’t offered Harry help, it hadn’t told Harry that she cared enough to be there for him, and for some reason in that particular moment it hadn’t felt like nearly enough. Her plan was to say something about how convenient it was that Harry had found Dionysus and how she’d know to look here first if he ever wandered off again.

That was it.

But staring at the boy who seemed so very small underneath all of Dionysus’ fur, sweating in the summer heat without a hat on as he weeded an entire garden on his own with no bottle of water or snack in sight, Lucia had choked. Trying to start that speech had felt like speaking through a throat full of mud.

And so she had stuttered out an emotion-fueled offer and said something ridiculous that possibly implied for a moment that Dionysus the ancient Greek God was kneazle and for a few minutes there she thought she had ruined all chances of building a relationship with Harry.

But he had said “okay” to her offer, and that was good enough for now. 

“Mind if I heal your claw marks? You never did answer that question, earlier.”

Internally she winced, hoping that had not sounded accusatory. What was it about this child that completely discombobulated her?

Harry frowned, eyes staying on her as he carefully tugged on a blade of grass. 

“What are you gonna do?”

Lucia smiled gently at him and crouched down, she had felt like she was looming over him while standing. From her own youth she remembered how much looming adults had irked her, and she suspected that Harry would appreciate her effort.

“There’s a simple spell I know,” she watched as his eyes widened and his hand stopped tugging on the blade of grass, “it will heal most small injuries.” Harry didn’t seem to be breathing, and Lucia hoped that he refrained from passing out. A lack of oxygen combined with this heat was unlikely to be very good for the poor boy. “If it is alright with you, then that is the spell I will be using.”

Her and Harry locked eyes for what felt like an awkwardly long time, but Lucia kept still until Harry slowly nodded. Thankfully he seemed to be breathing again.

Pushing on her knees, Lucia stood up with a quiet groan. “Alright, now you saw me use magic before, but last time I did not use a wand.” She slowly walked towards Harry, “Because I am doing this spell on you and not just making a light I am going to be using one this time, okay?”

Harry stared up at her from his seated position, head tilted a little to the side in curiosity. “A wand?”

With a smile Lucia tapped a rune on her wand holster to make it visible and slowly pulled her wand from its place on her left arm. Harry looked like he was bursting with questions, but he refrained from asking. To compensate, Lucia decided to talk him through what she was doing. That was a thing that teachers did, wasn’t it? Explain everything in simple terms so those watching could learn? 

“Now, different places use different tools to channel their magic. There are tribes in the Americas whose shaman use staffs and totems, there is a magic school in Africa that teaches wandless magic, and there are some groups of people in eastern Europe that I know use weapons like daggers or swords.” Harry looked fascinated, and so Lucia sat down in front of him again, mimicking his position by crossing her legs even though she was not really all that flexible. “Most, if not all, of the people in Britain use wands. If you do not attend a certain amount of years in school and get certain grades, then the British Magical Government can take away your wand.”

Harry leaned forwards, elbows on his knees, “Where do you get a wand? Can I see yours? What is it made of?”

Happy to see that Harry was not being scared off by all this talk of magic Lucia gently handed Harry her wand, smiling as he held it reverently and peered at it through his ridiculously large and poorly fixed glasses. 

“Most wizards and witches living in Britain get their wands from Ollivander’s, including myself; I used to have a wand I bought in Ottawa but it broke a few years ago. Ollivander has a shop in Diagon Alley, the entrance alley to the largest public wizarding area in all of Britain. My wand is made of Yew wood and has a dragon heartstring core. It is thirteen inches long, which is around thirty-three centimeters, and is slightly springy.”

Harry looked up at her and bit his lip, “Is all that supposed to mean something?”

Lucia nodded. “That’s a good question, Little One. I grabbed a pamphlet on the topic of wands from Ollivander’s store when I bought the wand, and I know I have a few books on the topic. If you ever want to read about it let me know. Each component of the wand means something. The wood, the core, the length, and the flexibility all tell you something about the owner.”

Harry looked consideringly at her wand, eyeing the square-ish patterns on the hilt and the way it curved a little to the right with interest. With visible reluctance he handed it back to Lucia, eyes flicking over to the garden that Dionysus had almost finished weeding. 

“You should do that spell you mentioned and go. I have more chores I need to do.”

Watching as Harry seemed to retreat into himself, eyes dimming and posture curling inwards, Lucia felt a quiet anger start to burn within her. She had been glad when she found out Harry was not homeless, but that did not change the fact that he was clearly not a well-cared for child. 

Think calm thoughts, she told herself. Deep breath.

(You still hardly know this child, it is ludicrous to get so worked up over him.)

Lucia raised her wand and, while saying  _ episkey,  _ moved it in a clockwise circle starting and ending at the twelve o’clock position. 

A small blue light outlined Harry for a moment, and Lucia hoped that the amount of magic she had put into the spell helped heal any other injuries Harry may have that she was not yet aware of (at least a little bit). 

Harry stayed rock still throughout the process, his eyes squeezed shut. After a few seconds he relaxed and opened his eyes, holding up his hands to stare curiously at them. 

“I feel much better,” he said wonderingly. 

A warmth bloomed in Lucia’s chest, and she could not refrain from smiling. “I am very glad to hear that, Little One. Now, remember, if you ever need me then you know where to find me.” She looked over at Dionysus, who was sitting proudly at the end of the garden next to a large pile of weeds, his long fur was matted and absolutely covered in grass, flower petals and stems, and dirt. Internally she despaired at what a pain it was going to be to properly clean his fur, since the little shit would track dirt and grass all over her house just to irk her if she let him.

“I suspect that Dionysus will continue to visit as well.”

Harry smiled quietly at the kneazle before slowly standing up. Lucia followed suit, and took a half-step towards the sidewalk before hesitating.

With a sigh she turned back to face Harry. “I know this may sound a little odd,” she said, slowly reaching into her pants pocket to grab the aluminum band that had been finished within a day of first meeting the boy, “but I enchanted this for you.”

Harry stared at the band, but made no move to take it. 

“I enchant things for a living, as my job. It means I take them and improve them with magic. This band has protection runes etched onto it, and see here?” Lucia pointed at one of the larger rune sequences on the band, “If you tap this one and say the word  _ kryvo  _ then it will turn invisible. If you want it to become visible again then press the same rune and say  _ emfanízo.  _ They’re greek, and  _ kryvo  _ means ‘hide’ while  _ emfanízo  _ means ‘show’.” Harry looked confused, and Lucia couldn’t help but wince. “I know they’re not easy to remember, but they work best with all the other stuff I fit on there. If you practice enough you can do it without the words, you just need to think it hard enough.” Lucia reached into her pocket and pulled out a small notebook. A quiet ripping sound had Harry’s eyes flicking up and away from the band to see what she was doing.

“Here, I’ll draw the rune you need to press and write out the words you’ll need to say. Everything else on there is already active and does not need to be turned on or off.”

Handing Harry the paper Lucia watched him fold it up and carefully put it in a pocket on his oversized shorts. Then he gently slid the band on, flinching as it shrunk so that it was only slightly loose. 

“No need to worry,” Lucia said hurriedly, “if you want to take it off then it’ll get bigger. It just shrinks so that it does not accidentally fall off.”

Harry looked up at her and then back to the band. Lucia felt like fidgeting as she waited for him to say something. She could practically feel her heart beating against her ribcage in anticipation. 

“Thank you.” 

She almost didn’t hear the quiet whisper.

Dionysus wove between Harry’s legs, getting dark red fur and bits of grass all over the boy’s dirty white socks. She carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, relieved when he did not flinch, and knelt down in front of him so their eyes were level. 

“It was my pleasure, Harry.”

He smiled at her, a tiny and careful little thing, but nonetheless a smile. 

Lucia stood up again and slowly walked back over to the sidewalk. “Dionysus, are you coming?”

The kneazle fell over and twitched his tail, staring defiantly at her from his sideways sprawl. 

“Meow.”

Harry giggled, and Lucia smiled. “I shall take that as a ‘no’, then.”

With a quiet sigh Harry walked over and picked up the piles of weeds that he and Dionysus had gathered, placing them into a green bin that had previously gone unnoticed. 

“I need to do the back garden now but… I’ll see you around, Lucia.” Harry went to run his hand through his hair, noticed all the dirt and plant matter on it, and let it drop heavily to his side. 

Lucia put her hands into her jean pockets. “Okay then, Little One. I will see you around.” Slowly she ambled away towards her house, looking back whenever she walked across the driveway of another house. Harry had not looked back as far as she noticed, but before he disappeared into the backyard Lucia caught him rubbing the aluminum band with what looked like a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point I wanted a less serious title so I googled 'funny poems.' It led me to a true gem! One that made "Eyes Ablaze… Like Mayonnaise" a possible title for this fic (not because it's particularily relevant, but because it's hilarious), and which can be found here:   
>  [ https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-three-little-pigs-by-roald-dahl ](https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-three-little-pigs-by-roald-dahl)


	4. A Witch's House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watch as Harry plays "Follow the Cat" and see where he ends up, shall we?  
> (Hint: literally the first place you'd probably expect in this fic right now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say, house elf speech kills me.
> 
> Very long end note again (sorry not sorry). 
> 
> Also, enjoy some cat-based British _and_ non-British world building!  
> All my British knowledge come from Google (so... google maps, and whatever comes up on the first page of what I search for).
> 
> This is what I imagine Dionysus looks like, but with the funky little tail tuft that kneazles are supposed to have (given Dionysus is already a long haired cat it's not super noticeable, but it's there): (sorry the url is so frickin long)
> 
> [ https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://t0.gstatic.com/images?q%3Dtbn:ANd9GcT2sMk3TP9KIxs93GWK3XaLORS3cQ7WmILmjpB_Dt2oLmQ2TI7E&imgrefurl=https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f%3D7%26t%3D3088654%26p%3D99493993&h=390&w=512&tbnid=MCFascDQGEGyAM&tbnh=196&tbnw=257&hcb=1&usg=AI4_-kRbfASyEKGwtPvHUFsVugHCiFtp0Q&ved=0ELLNBQgAKAAwAA&docid=JiBdfZP-lPR8VM&hcb=1 ](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://t0.gstatic.com/images?q%3Dtbn:ANd9GcT2sMk3TP9KIxs93GWK3XaLORS3cQ7WmILmjpB_Dt2oLmQ2TI7E&imgrefurl=https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f%3D7%26t%3D3088654%26p%3D99493993&h=390&w=512&tbnid=MCFascDQGEGyAM&tbnh=196&tbnw=257&hcb=1&usg=AI4_-kRbfASyEKGwtPvHUFsVugHCiFtp0Q&ved=0ELLNBQgAKAAwAA&docid=JiBdfZP-lPR8VM&hcb=1)

HP

Summer felt especially hot this year. There had been hardly any rain or clouds within the last few weeks and the skies were consistently blue. Whenever Harry looked away from his chores he could see a waver above the pavement.

Maybe that was just exhaustion.

Dionysus continued to visit, leaving a trail of wine red fur wherever he went. He shed enough fur that Harry was fairly certain that if Mrs. Alliston gathered it all up she would be able to make it into yarn and knit a scarf or mittens or something. The kneazle continued to bring Harry cookies and cause trouble for Dudley, and Harry was pretty sure that the kneazle managed to poop on Uncle Vernon’s car once or twice. 

Harry even went back to Lucia’s house, and he was smart about it too. 

Going back to Lucia's house was was weird at first, because he didn’t actually remember where said house was. Harry was told to go to Mrs. Figg’s house for the weekend; Aunt Petunia didn’t want him around to ruin Dudley’s birthday this year because the three Dursleys were going to Dreamland. The amusement park was only a few hours away by car, on the south east coast, if the roads were clear, and whenever the Dursleys went they stayed at the Somerville Hotel. Apparently it was very nice, and was close enough to both the amusement park and the beach that even Uncle Vernon and Dudley could walk there despite their individual sizes being comparable to that of a baby whale.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always refused to let Harry into the car unless they absolutely had to, and since Mrs. Figg only lived a few blocks away they always told Harry to walk over. Mrs. Figg was expecting him, so Harry went over and asked her if he could actually stay at a friend’s house for the night, possibly even the weekend. Harry figured now would be a good time to see if he could trust Lucia, and since he knew the Dursleys might celebrate if he never came back this way he could count on Mrs. Figg to notice if he didn’t show because Lucia had kidnapped him or something.

Mrs. Figg had looked like she didn’t believe he had friends, and was sad she couldn’t spend the entire weekend showing Harry pictures of her cats and feeding him tea and stale biscuits. After making Harry promise to come back if his friend’s parents didn’t want him over she let him go. As Harry walked in the direction he vaguely remembered Lucia’s house being he saw Dionysus waiting at the corner of Privet Drive and Setley Way. 

One of Mrs. Figg’s cats, a white fluffy one so probably Snowy, followed him to the edge of Privet Drive before sitting down and watching impassively as Harry waited for Dionysus to approach him. Even after all of the times the kneazle visited, Harry still couldn’t quite believe that Dionysus wanted to be close to him. The fluffy white cat hissed and arched her back as Dionysus got closer, completely surprising Harry who had never seen any of Mrs. Figg’s cats do anything more energetic than lazily jump onto the window sill or knock an empty cup off the edge of a table. 

Dionysus just stared down Snowy, looking extremely unbothered by the fuss the cat was making. Harry stared at both the cats in confusion, Snowy was puffed up and trying (unsuccessfully) to intimidate Dionysus. When Harry took a step towards Dionysus Snowy quieted down, and as Harry quickly walked the rest of the way over to Dionysus the white cat looked (if it was at all possible) slightly betrayed. 

Since Harry was completely unable to talk to cats, he just kept walking and hoped Dionysus would eventually show him the way to Lucia’s house instead of continuing to stare down Snowy.

After a moment Dionysus rubbed against his legs, almost tripping him in the process. When Harry looked back Snowy was sitting on the corner of the street, watching the two walk away with narrowed eyes. 

The walk took about twenty minutes, and Harry was surprised until he realized that last time he’d run the entire way there and had been sneaking around avoiding Dudley and his gang the entire way back. 

Lucia’s house looked much nicer in the front, which meant that the grass wasn’t all dead and there was a single flower pot on the front step with an actual living flower in it. The rest of the house looked exactly like all the other houses on the street, and Harry was a little disappointed. He thought that the house of a witch would somehow look different. 

As Harry got closer he noticed the flower was plastic, though the grass was all real. 

When he knocked on the door he didn’t hear anything inside, though the door opened silently a second later. Dionysus trotted inside, rubbing against the door as he passed by it and leaving a few strands of fur behind. Harry followed him inside, slowly looking around and again being rather disappointed as he noticed everything looked very boring and non-magical. 

The door closed silently behind him, only making a noise when it clicked shut. Harry jumped a little at the noise, whirling around to see the lock click shut on its own. 

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, looking around the room but knowing better than to touch anything. Aunt Petunia hated when he touched anything. 

The furniture was all boring and plain, it had the same floral patterns that Harry saw on what Dudley called “old people furniture” at the mall whenever Harry was allowed to go shopping with his relatives. There were a few more plastic plants scattered around the house that Harry could see, all of them were brightly coloured and clashed with the wallpaper in a way that would have made Aunt Petunia sniff in disdain and make snide comments at her next dinner party. It didn’t look at all what Harry had thought a witch’s house might look like. 

The door under the stairs was different than in his relative’s house, instead of a small door leading to an under-the-stairs cupboard it was a full sized door that looked like it might lead down to a basement of some sort. Harry didn’t spend too much time looking at it.

Just as Harry was wondering if he should leave, the door was yanked inwards and Lucia burst through and nearly ran headfirst into the wall across the hallway. She just managed to catch herself, instead slamming her shoulder into the wall to stop her momentum. 

Brushing the stray strands of hair out of her face Lucia stood up straight and winced when she caught sight of Harry. 

“Ah, Harry. Hi.” She looked very embarrassed to have almost run face first into a wall. Her clothes weren’t dusty at all. Harry thought that basements were always dusty, the horror movies Dudley watched always had creepy dusty basements, but maybe having a clean basement was a magic thing. 

“Hello Lucia.” 

LJ

When Cally popped next to Lucia in the basement workshop it took a minute or so for Lucia to notice her. 

Back straining uncomfortably and cracking as she straightened up, Lucia quietly groaned.

“Miss Lucy?”

Lucia jumped in her chair, nearly dropping her pen.

“Oh gracious, Cally. You startled me.” 

Cally smirked up at her mistress, the expression seeming very out of place on a house elf. “Little Master Harry is in the entryway waiting for yous, Miss Lucy.”

It took a second for the words to sink in, Lucia had been working on her latest commission for the last 13 hours straight, but when they did she jumped out of her chair.

“Hary is here? Oh dear, when did he arrive? I hope he hasn’t been waiting too long.”

Frantic but still careful movements had Lucia tidying her workstation and making sure it was safe to leave before sprinting up the stairs. 

Overtiredness gave her energy, and Lucia quickly yanked the door open before bursting into the hallway, forgetting how narrow said hallway was and nearly breaking her nose on the wall. She turned just in time and simply body slammed the wall instead. With a grimace she brushed the hair out of her face, regretting that this would be Harry’s first impression of her in her own home. 

Then she saw him standing in the hallway and staring at her with an amused expression on his gaunt little face. 

“Ah, Harry. Hi.”

He tilted his head and eyed her appearance. Lucia was not sure what he was thinking, but it seemed to be at least somewhat positive.

“Hello Lucia.”

That was suitably neutral. She smiled down at him and almost greeted him again before catching herself. “Would you…” she looked around desperately, “like a tour?” Hopefully everything was in order and not embarrassing, though she trusted Cally to keep things clean and tidy whenever she neglected everything in favour of work.

Abaddon wound around her legs, and she could tell Harry was surprised to see another feline in her home. “This is Abaddon,” she said, gently picking up the creature in question and letting him half-stand on one of her shoulders, his lower body supported by her arms. 

“I rescued him a few years back from some idiot housewife. She’d bought him from a blackmarket creature breeder and had no idea what he was or how to properly care for him.” Said cat was purring deeply, his entire body vibrating in her arms. “She tried to buy a restraining collar from me, one that would basically drain his energy to the point where he could not do anything but sit around and look pretty.” Abaddon growled a little, his tail spiking up at the mention of his previous owner. “He is the descendant of a Silver Cat, Harry. Do you know what that is?”

He shook his head, looking fascinated by what she was telling him. Lucia smiled and walked into her living room and sat down on the floral couch, Harry trailing quietly behind her. She nodded at the couch when he hesitated, and internally frowned when he didn’t look like he could believe he was actually allowed to sit on her couch.

“Have a seat, Harry. Let me tell you what little is known about Silver Cats.”

He perched on the edge of the couch, body angled to face Lucia. Dionysus jumped into his lap and the boy relaxed and started absently pending the clever kneazle, calming even more as the feline started purring. 

“Now, Silver Cats are very rare and so not much is known about them. They are considered a type of Ball-Tailed cat, and are actually quite large. Think about the size of a Mountain Lion, but with a longer tail that has a spiked ball at the end.” Harry’s eyes went to Abaddon’s tail, and Lucia grinned. “Clearly this little cat has no ball or spikes on his tail, and is considerably smaller than a Mountain Lion. He is the result of many years of careful breeding, and I’m honestly not exactly sure what other types of feline creatures he has in his ancestry. If you look closely and feel very carefully you can notice that the fur on his tail is quite strong and sharp,” Lucia gently held Abaddon’s tail up so Harry could see it better, letting the boy carefully reach out and stroke it. Abaddon let him, surprisingly patient with the child, and Lucia mentally made a note to take him on a hike so he could ambush some unsuspecting hikers as a reward.

“As far as I have been able to tell this is the only physical trait he can claim from his much larger and more deadly ancestors, though he’s incredibly smart too.” As if in agreement Abaddon decided to _"mrow"_ loudly, butting his head against Lucia’s ear and nibbling on her loose strands of hair.

Harry grinned, going back to petting Dionysus and watching quietly as Lucia tried to gently remove her hair from Abaddon’s mouth. It wasn’t working very well, the cat was determined to cover her hair in spit it seemed. With an exaggerated sigh Lucia gave up, instead turning back to Harry. “Muggles, that’s what British call non-magical people, even have stories about Silver Cats. There are not very many, especially not outside of North America, but all of them tell of dangerous creatures just waiting to attack the unwary and drag them into a tree to eat.” Harry looks slightly horrified, and Lucia wondered if he was old enough to hear about this kind of thing yet. 

Judging by his expression, probably not.

“Now, Abaddon here certainly does not go around eating people. He does enjoy pouncing on people from high places, and whenever we go hiking he likes dangling from tree branches and dropping onto people to scare them. If he likes you, which I think he does, then he especially enjoys shedding all over everything you own.” She glanced at Harry’s lap, smirking at the sight of the growing layer of fur that was developing from him petting Dionysus. “Though, that seems to be a trait all feline creatures share.”

Harry giggled and tried to shake his hand out, a large clump of fur slowly drifting away as he did so. “Your cats are much cooler than Mrs. Figg’s cats. She always just shows me photos and feeds me tea and old biscuits when I come over, and she never tells me cool stories about them.”

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t have any stale biscuits, but I do have tea and some lasagna left over in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Harry looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected her to offer him food. “Oh, I don’t want to impose. Aunt Petunia says I shouldn’t be such a burden all the time.”

It was all Lucia could do to refrain from cursing Harry’s relatives out.

“Well, Harry, I did say that you could come over for any reason whenever you wanted, and for food definitely counts. Besides,” she grinned, “it would be nice to have a meal with another human being for once.”

Harry looked at Dionysus and Abaddon, both purring quietly and very clearly incapable of conversation. “Yeah, I can see that.” He grinned at her, and Lucia felt a little bubble of happiness bloom inside her chest that she made this poor boy smile.

“Now, before we eat, I want to introduce you to someone else.”

Harry looked at her curiously, “Another cat?”

She laughed, “No, not another cat. Cally is a dear friend of mine. Cally?”

Harry startled as Cally appeared in front of the couch with a quiet popping sound. She was wearing a small blue and yellow plaid shirt, one with a blue rectangle that had three yellow lines that looked like arrows pointing upwards on the left breast pocket, and a matching pair of plain black dress pants and tiny little dress shoes.

“Hello Miss Lucy.” She turned to Harry and bowed deeply, her floppy ears brushing lightly against the floor, “Hello Little Master Harry.”

Harry stared at her with nervous curiosity, “Hello.”

“Cally is a House Elf,” Lucia explained. “House Elves need to be magically connected to a witch or wizard in order to live longer than twenty to thirty years. Their magic is inherently unstable, and being connected to someone stabilizes their magic and makes them much healthier and more powerful than they would be on their own. Because they cannot survive long without being bonded, but whomever they bond to does not have that same issue, House Elves are considered by most witches and wizards to be subservient to the magical being they end up bonding to. Some people take advantage of this and don’t treat their bonded Elves very well, however, Cally and I are long-time friends.”

Lucia huffs a quiet laugh and she curls in on herself, almost as if embarrassed. "Cally and I have actually been arrested a few times while liberating house elves from bad situations, though we've managed operations without being caught far more often. We personally make sure each elf ends up bonded to a far better magic user than the one we rescue them from." Lucia hesitated for a moment before running a hand over her hair, "but that's something we can talk more about later.

Cally grinned, and Lucia smiled at the mischievous expression (while certainly true that they'd been arrested, Cally usually found a way to break them out and took great pleasure in doing so). 

Harry looked between the duo in worried confusion. “Does all of that mean House Elves are usually slaves?”

“Well,” Lucia grimaced, “like I said, some witches and wizards treat their House Elves poorly. I do know that not all of them do, and that most tend to ignore their Elves unless they need them for something.”

His expression was oddly blank, and Lucia wondered what Harry was thinking. 

“Sounds familiar,” he muttered quietly, and Lucia felt her heart ache at the bitterness in his words.

“Oh Harry,” she said helplessly, entirely unsure of what she should say.

Luckily Cally stepped forwards. “Little Master Harry,” she said bravely, “we House Elves is not always being treated the best, but we’s are enjoying the work that we’s be doing.” She nodded sharply, as if to reinforce her words. “We’s are not like you magic humans, a lot of us is liking the cleaning and cooking and doing things that you’s don’t be liking to do. It is being satisfying work for many of us. If you’s be ignoring us that means we’s be doing a good job, and we’s always be doing a job so we’s always being ignored by normal magic humans.” Cally tilted her head towards Lucia, ears flopping across her face for a moment, “Miss Lucy is strange because she is being a friend to Elves and she is liking to talk to us, and even taking elves from bad homes when she is knowing they are bad." 

Cally stepped forwards and grabbed one of Harry's hands, gently unclenching his fist and gently running her long, spindly fingers over the indents his fingernails had made in the palm of his hand. "Most Elves don’t like talking to people and are happier being ignored, so I don’t want you’s to be worried about us Little Master Harry,” she said seriously, eyes locked with Harry's as if she could make him feel beter through sheer will alone.

Harry still looked unconvinced, but he nodded anyways. Cally smiled at him and looked back at Lucia, “Is that being everything you’s wanted Miss Lucy?”

“Yes Cally, thank you dear.” Lucia smiled at her, relieved that Cally had stepped in (and also proud of Cally for standing up for herself, an act of courage she and Cally had been working on for years).

“So, Harry,” he looked at her, still a little nervous but less so than before Cally gave her speech, “still want that lasagna?”

He smiled, a small smile, and one that looked equal parts happy and reserved. Harry giggled quietly when Dionysus decided to stretch up and lick his face. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “that sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with my take on house elves tbh. It's an overused bit, and after I wrote the majority of what I have written for this fic right now I read another fic that broke down exactly why _"because they need humans' magic"_ is such an awful reason. I'd gotten so used to it as a trope that I was ignoring what it _meant,_ and I kind of hate myself for it. I am, however, both depressed and lazy, so after I'd written almost an entire page of solid dialogue explaining a completely different, slavery free origin for house elves that wasn't as awful I realized that not only was a solid wall of exposition/text close to a page long not a good way to introduce world-building, but there were a considerable amount of chapters I'd already written with house elves as characters that I would have to totally re-write, which I don't have nearly close to enough energy and motivation to do. I do still have that solid wall of text, but it won't come into play in this fic.
> 
> TL;DR-I don't like how I wrote house elves but changing it is too much work considering everything that's going on in my life.
> 
> Thoughts? What did you think of Abaddon? He's based on another of my cats.


	5. Interlude: Visit #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Lucia go on a small adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.beaulieu.co.uk/attractions/palace-house-gardens/  
> The photo here is the one I used for this chapter.
> 
> I will admit, there is a lot of information about Beaulieu Palace House, and I have never actually been there. I wrote this chapter almost a year and a half ago in the back corner of a McDonalds in six hours instead of writing a paper worth a considerable amount of my grade. (It took that long because I got caught up in little random side-quests of research that never made it into this.)  
> I own NOTHING that appears in this chapter, except Lucia and her fluffy terrors.
> 
> I meant to have this up on Friday, sorry.

HP

The third time that Harry visited Lucia she took him to a castle. 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a castle? Maybe it was a manor? Lucia called it a “palace house,” which didn’t really clear anything up. Either way, Beaulieu was so beautiful and Lucia took Harry there to see all of the amazing things they have on the grounds! 

The Beaulieu Estate was surrounded by the Newforest National Park, and the forest itself was really pretty, and before going to the castle house Lucia and Harry spent around 2 hours lounging around and having a nice breakfast in a rarely used area just off of a small trail and making up stories about the hikers that walked by. Lucia had said that, if they weren’t going to be around so many people for the rest of the day, she would have brought Abbadon and they could have watched him “drop-attack” unsuspecting hikers, which would have been hilarious.*

Anyways, after having a nice breakfast Lucia and Harry explored the Beaulieu Estate. The National Motor Museum was the first stop, and Harry absolutely loved it. There were old cars from since cars were ever being made there! And they were so well looked after that he could see his own reflection in all of them! Apparently the museum started off with just five cars in 1952 back before it was even a museum, but Harry wasn’t too sure he believed that. The place had only been officially the National Motor Museum since 1972, but already there were so many amazing cars! Harry almost didn’t want to leave, but he knew that Lucia would have planned everything so that the rest of the day was equally awesome. 

After that Lucia and Harry got a tour of the Beaulieu Palace House, and apparently “Palace House” was the name of the house or something. That bit was never really explained to Harry’s satisfaction, but everything was so cool and old and interesting that he didn’t really care about a detail like that too much. The tour guide talked a lot, and Harry only listened to a little bit of it because he was too busy looking around and trying not to trip while doing so. 

Apparently Beaulieu was a hunting lodge that “the Crown” had owned and used, which Lucia explained meant that the kings and queens used to come and hunt and have vacation here. After that, in 1204 (which was around seven-hundred-eighty years ago!) King John had given it to some monks (the Cistercian monks, Lucia told him) so they could make it an abbey (which was some kind of religious place apparently, but with monks instead of nuns and priests). And then, after that, it had been the ancestral home of the Montagu family since 1538, which was over four-hundred years ago! Harry and Lucia did some math, and since next year would be 1988 that meant that Beaulieu had belonged to the Montagu family for four-hundred-forty-nine years! Lucia had promised that she would do her best to bring Harry back next year, because there was probably going to be some kind of celebration for the four-hundred-fiftieth year, and even if there wasn’t Harry knew he really wanted to come back to visit.

The guide talked a lot about different facts and things, but Harry didn’t remember most of them. He did remember that there were thirty-five bells in the kitchen and all of them sounded different, and that the people who worked for the Montagu family had to be able to tell all of the bells apart and know what they meant. It reminded him of the Dursleys, and he was silently very grateful that they never bought bells to call him with.

Harry’s absolute favourite part of the whole Palace House was the ghost. He’d never seen a ghost before, and he’d heard the tour guide mention it so he asked Lucia if ghosts were real. She said they were, and started talking about the differences between spectres and ghosts and shades and wisps but all of that went in one ear and out the other because Harry’s head was so full of facts and other wonderful things already. She’d stopped herself and blushed when she saw how little he was understanding, and then she’d stopped talking and made sure he didn’t trip while staring at everything. Harry almost thought she forgot, but after the tour she did something that made them both almost invisible and they snuck around and tried to find the ghost. 

At one point they saw her, and she was really pretty for a ghost. Countess Isabella Montagu was apparently her name, and even though they didn’t get to talk to her or even see her for more than a few seconds it was the most magical and spooky thing Harry had ever done and he loved every second of it. Lucia told him that the Countess had died in 1787, which was exactly two-hundred years ago. Harry was starting to realize how old everything was, and he felt very small right up until he saw Lucia almost trip down a flight of stairs, and then he didn’t have the time to feel small or unimportant because he was almost scared to death that she would break her neck if he wasn’t watching, and then after that so many more amazing things happened that he there was no time to dwell on his own short life or mortality. 

After exploring the Palace House Harry convinced Lucia to walk through the ruins of the old Abbey to look for more ghosts. They didn’t find any, though they met some other people (muggles, not wizards) who were doing the same thing with funny looking equipment that beeped and made other funny noises. At one point Harry felt really cold and like his whole body had been covered in something slimy, but it was only for a second and then he didn’t feel anything else. Lucia said she felt a little cold, but not slimy, and she said that maybe one of the ghosts had said ‘hi’ but wanted to avoid the muggles and had stayed invisible.

The last stop before Lucia had to take Harry home was Buckler’s Hard Harbour, which Lucia apparated them to from the Abbey (Harry was extremely grateful, his legs were getting very tired and his feet were sore and being around so many people was exhausting). 

The Beaulieu River is one of the only rivers in the whole world that is privately owned, and it’s also owned by the Montagu family. Harry wondered how rich the family was, if they owned a whole Palace House and a huge part of forest and a river with a harbour on it. He didn’t think he’d ever meet anybody that rich, considering what the Dursleys were like and what they said his parents were like. Lucia had looked like she really wanted to say something, but then she’d made a funny face and shook her head and muttered some things and had said she would tell him everything later so that they could enjoy the rest of the day in peace. It made Harry nervous, but today had been amazing and he was starting to get really tired, so he agreed to wait to hear whatever Lucia was not telling him.

Buckler Hard was really big, not that Harry had anything to compare it to. There were signs that told about the history of the harbour, and how several ships had been built here way back during the war against the French and Spanish that were in battles, like the Battle of Trafalgar, that helped the British gain naval dominance over the whole world. Some of the really famous ships were the Swiftsure, the Euryalus, and the Agamemnon, which was apparently the favourite ship of the even more famous Lord Nelson (there were a lot more titles but Harry forgot most of them and didn’t know how to pronounce the one he did remember, which was ‘viscount’). 

There was a little plaque that said that around two-thousand trees were needed to build just one boat the size of the Agamemnon, and Harry couldn’t even imagine how long it would take to cut down that many trees. He felt really bad that so many trees were cut down to make such huge boats when humans just shot holes into them and tried to sink each others’ boats in the end, but then Lucia pointed out the famous Gipsy Moth IV and Harry decided to think about all the dead trees later. 

LJ

The day had been a brilliant idea and an even more brilliant success. The Beaulieu Estate was one of Lucia’s favourite tourist traps, in small part because several years ago she’d been commissioned by Baron Montagu to create a set of discreet, highly protective jewelry for his children to wear at all times. 

Apparently the Baron had stumbled upon and provided assistance to a group of aurors during World War II, and as a result wasn’t obliviated but instead required to swear a secrecy oath. He was thus aware of the magical world and knew a very small bit about magical protections and runes (mainly that they existed and could be useful). Lucia didn’t know if the man’s children knew of the wizarding world, but they didn’t have to know for her jewelry to work so she didn’t really care all that much. She was paid well, and admired the man’s determination to keep his family safe from his peers and those who disliked him for his sexuality.

That the Estate was absolutely gorgeous, and that it was full of wonderful things to see and informative areas to learn from certainly helped keep Harry entertained. His brain was like a little knowledge-sponge. She had been struggling to think of somewhere she could take Harry for weeks, not wanting to take him out of the UK but wanting to spend more than an awkward hour in her house with him. Once she thought of the Beaulieu Estate she hoped that something from the array of history, ghosts, cars, boats, wars, and architecture would fascinate Harry, as she didn’t know what young male children found interesting.

Seeing Harry’s exhausted smile as she apparated them to her front hall, Lucia knew that she’d successfully chosen their location. The fact that, before letting Lucia walk him home, Harry had given her a hug (albeit the shortest hug she’d ever received, but a hug nonetheless), had filled Lucia with so much warmth and happiness that she felt as if she would float away if she jumped high enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This will be explained in the next chapter.  
> At one point I say something is "around" 780 years ago, meaning I know it's not exactly 780 years ago. It would have been 783 years, but Harry is too overwhelmed to care about whether Lucia rounded a number down by 3 or not.
> 
> I always feel weird whenever I reference real people in stuff. I have no permission, I just thought the place was (is) amazing and has a fascinating history and I wanted to share it. The ghost and the Beaulieu Family are real, and I have a lot of respect for the whole place based on what I've read. I hope I did it all justice.  
> It also seemed like a reasonable place for Lucia to take Harry on a day-trip. As I say (or rather, as Lucia thinks) it has cars, ghosts, war ships, historical importance, and is a large old house/manor/palace house and thus is a good, gentle introduction to later places (like Hogwarts, and any one of the homes of the many rich kids who go there). My non-posting final draft has links directly after chapters related to the topic I referenced, which I did not include because there are a _lot_ of links. I will share if asked, though.
> 
> Thoughts? Grammatical errors? Favourite personal travel locations?


	6. Meet the Cousin (he's an ass)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sneezes and moves the plot along.  
> Lucia is forced to politely ask for paperwork (which... ew... paperwork).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay. I work in health care and tend to be functionally dead at the end of each day I'm working. 
> 
> Tbh the photo I used for this chapter was literally just my cat, which is not on the internet outside of my google doc. Just google black cat, and pick your favourite solid black cat that's a short-hair with green eyes, and that's what Abaddon looks like. (My actual cat's name is not Abaddon, btw. It's Midnight, cause the previous owner was literally 8 when she got him.)

HP

Uncle Vernon had been acting as he usually did towards Harry. This involved doing things like shoving Harry out of his way on the rare occasion the boy didn’t manage to avoid him and quickly losing his temper whenever Harry did anything that Uncle Vernon didn’t like (such as breathe).

The man’s usual actions rarely involved grabbing Harry, they always involved being shoved into walls, away from Vernon's person, and in the direction of the cupboard. Uncle Vernon also usually ended up grabbing the oversized castoffs of Dudley’s that Harry was forced to wear instead of Harry himself whenever the man deigned to grab instead of the usual shove.

Actually grabbing Harry meant touching him, and possibly being contaminated by his “freakishness”. Only during truly awful punishments was Harry actually grabbed. On those occasions Harry’s freakish actions were worse than the risk of freakish contamination, apparently.

The occasion that resulted in Lucia’s intervention involved Harry sneezing quietly into his sleeve while cooking. Uncle Vernon had heard Harry and, due to the man’s particularly trying day at work (someone had actually dared to file a complaint against him for not doing his job properly), decided that Harry was trying to poison the family with his freakish germs. Unlike the other occasions something like this had happened, however, when Uncle Vernon went to bodily thrown Harry into his cupboard the man had tried to grab Harry’s arm and found himself unable to get a good grip on the boy. His massive hand slid right off Harry’s arm, as if there were a slippery, invisible barrier all around his body to shield him.

When Harry glanced at Lucia’s Band he noticed that the runes were glowing slightly, but the thought quickly fled his mind when Uncle Vernon started yelling at him. 

“What kind of freakishness have you managed now, boy?! I will not tolerate it in this house!”

Harry flinched away, actually managing to do so for the first time in years now that Uncle Vernon had been temporarily confounded by the new and freakish situation. 

“I didn’t do anything!” He protested, knowing it was futile even as he said it.

True to form Uncle Vernon had snarled, face steadily turning a terrifying shade of red, before aggressively herding Harry to his closet. The man had looked like he was going to explode as he slammed the door, and Harry winced as the force shook half a dozen spiders loose from their places around the closet. 

“If I see you at all within the next two weeks, boy, you’ll regret it.”

Harry sat, hunched over and cross-legged on his mattress. Such restrictions had been placed before, and it usually meant that Aunt Petunia had him out doing chores during the times Vernon was at work while giving him minimal breaks for eating, drinking, and using the washroom. The weekends would be the worst, as she’d give Harry two bottles of water and a bucket before locking the door, closing the slats on the grate, and ignoring him. Sometimes (if he was lucky) she would give him the stale ends of the day's loaf of bread to tide him over (between Dudley and Uncle Vernon they went through a lot of bread).

With a sigh, Harry lay flat on his mattress and resigned himself to a weekend of silent suffering in his tiny little cupboard. At least this time he would be able to recall all the fun he’d been having with Lucia and her cat creatures recently.

LJ

Having refrained from visiting Harry again so as not to crowd him, Lucia had not seen the child since he last visited her house. He had come by three times since his initial visit, each time eager to learn about the magical world and play with Dionysus. 

Abaddon occasionally let the boy pet him and refrained from leaping onto the boy from high places, so Lucia figured the feline was rather fond of Harry too. 

On Harry’s second visit Lucia had taken him out on a hike, apparating the boy to the nearest trail that she knew of and wandering in the woods all day with him. 

(In hindsight taking him into the woods and away from civilization was probably a very ominous and ill-thought-out move on her part, but it all worked out in the end.)

_*-* Start Flashback *-*_

__

__

_Lucia had pulled Harry off the trail and set up a comfy seating area behind a bush, hiding them from any muggles that walked past but ensuring they had a good view of the trail. They had chatted for a while, Dionysus lazing in and shedding all over Harry’s lap, until Lucia held up a hand and told Harry to stay quiet and watch._

_He had quieted down reluctantly, peering at the trail in curiosity as a lone muggle strolled towards them. They had a pair of binoculars around their neck and were wearing a small backpack, strolling along and whistling quietly._

_Harry glanced at Lucia, surprised to find her looking up instead of at the muggle. He followed her gaze and almost laughed out loud when he saw Abaddon hanging upside down from a tree branch about 9 feet in the air that extended over the trail. His black fur didn’t stand out much against the brown of the tree branch, though he was easily seen if you knew where to look._

_Lucia was biting her lip, expression eager as she watched the muggle get closer and closer to the branch Abaddon was holding on to._

_Finally the muggle made it to the branch, and the pair watched as Abaddon silently dropped onto the muggle’s undefended head, flipping over mid-drop co he landed on his paws._

_He didn’t growl, or hiss, or make any noise at all. Abaddon gripped the muggle’s head tightly, claws only slightly extended, and held on while the muggle started shrieking and flailing about. Only when he was almost hit by the muggle’s flailing did he jump down onto the ground, winding himself around the muggle’s feet so he toppled over with a hilarious shriek._

_Abaddon then sat a few feet away from the terrified muggle, smugly watching him scramble on the ground, tail twitching back and forth in satisfaction._

_Hidden behind silencing charms Lucia was cackling madly, and Harry was watching her and Abaddon in shock._

_“Is he going to be okay?” he asked nervously, watching as the muggle slumped to the ground. From where he was laying he was unable to see Abaddon, but the cat stood up and stretched, his sharp tail curling lazily over his back. The movement drew the muggle’s eyes, and he stared at the black cat standing ominously in the middle of the trail._

_Abaddon started growling, and the sound resonated, much deeper and more terrifying than a cat of his size should have been able to produce. His fur started bristling, tail thrashing, teeth bared, and Harry and Lucia watched as the muggle whimpered before scrambling up and sprinting back the way he came._

_Lucia finally stopped cackling, slowly wiping tears from her eyes as she calmed down. Harry was looking at her with concern, though whether that concern was for her or for the fact that she did this kind of thing for fun she wasn’t sure._

_“He’ll be fine, Harry. Abaddon never hurts the idiots he drops on, just scares them.”_

_Harry looked unconvinced, but Lucia started telling him about the time she trekked from Fort Smith and into the Nahanni National Park Reserve of Canada where she, in a series of entirely unrelated incidents, discovered and stayed with a hidden pack of werewolves that lives in the park, miraculously survived a fall into a large sinkhole* during a thunderstorm, and barely escaped from an angry Wendigo._

_Unobserved by anyone, Abaddon stealthily climbed back into his tree to wait for the next hapless muggle hiker._

_ *-* End Flashback*-*_

Dionysus continued to visit Harry frequently but Lucia wanted to let Harry to trust her enough come to her instead of forcing her potentially unwanted presence on the boy. She walked along his street on one or two occasions, but had yet to see him gardening again. Dionysus was seeing him, she knew; the kneazle always looked particularly pleased with himself whenever he spent the day with Harry. Lucia had noticed, however, that Dionysus appeared to be less pleased and more anxious recently. (His anxiety was easily noticed due to the fact that, somehow, he would start shedding _even more_.)

This observation, combined with the information Lucia was getting from the bracelet Harry had around his thin little wrist, had been causing Lucia to feel progressively more and more worried as the weeks passed. She had keyed the bracelet to one of her many empty notebooks so it could record any instances in which one of the bracelet’s many protections was activated. The book would show what defense was activated, when, and how strongly it activated. This would help to give Lucia a rough idea of how often the boy was in danger and how severe the danger usually was.

The book also superficially scanned the boy’s magic to determine his current vital signs and state of health either after every time a protection activated, or after twenty four hours had passed, whichever time ended up being more frequent. (Vital signs included heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, temperature, and oxygen saturation; “state of health” meaning his magic levels, the amount of blood in his body, his blood sugar levels, any locations of bleeds/bruises, and any fractured and/or broken bones). That particular piece of magic was based on the monitoring bands she had seen used in a few magical hospitals around the world. If Harry was sitting in an alleyway with a broken arm or had been tossed down a flight of stairs and was dying in the basement, then Lucia wanted to know so she could help him.

One downside that Lucia had not been able to work around was that the bracelet relied on the deviations in health from what it knew of the patient's baseline health. (The results were also usually viewed by people with actual medical training.) In hospitals and community health centres located in cities and towns where such bands were commonly used a patient would have their own band to wear at all times. This meant that there would be time to build up a health history and the band would have a baseline created over the course of, potentially, up to several years to work off of. The baseline would be reflective of the patient while healthy. Harry's band simply used the first three scans combined as a baseline, and Lucia had to interpret the data it gathered with what little medical experience she had.

It was a gross invasion of the boy’s privacy, and originally Lucia had been terribly guilty over going to such lengths and being so invasive without the boy’s explicit permission. She had felt like there was a heavy weight in her chest keeping her from breathing easily every time she looked at the book, and Cally had sent her disapproving looks every so often that she just knew were related to the situation. Having the boy put the bracelet on after being told it had protections on it was very different from telling the boy she’d be closely monitoring and creating a record of his health every day and having him consent to that. 

Then the book had started to fill, and Lucia felt her guilt drain away to be replaced with anger, and then fury. The pit in her gut had started to burn, and now Lucia had trouble breathing for a different reason entirely. She wanted to go and strangle the muggles the boy was living with, but the book had recorded “small” incidents only until a few days ago. The incidences could, potentially, be the result of roughhousing and/or a particularly clumsy child. 

Lucia knew they were anything but harmless incidents, mind you, but whenever she had tried peering into the household to see Harry he had looked as sickly as ever but no more so than was his apparent normal. She had yet to catch his Aunt or Uncle in the act (in any kind of act beyond stupid and shallow), either.

Then the shield had flared to life, stronger than ever, and Lucia watched the book with worry as the health report was written down immediately afterwards. Thankfully the protections had held up, but if the boy’s family were as anti-Harry/anti-magic as they so clearly appeared to be then chances were the magic would have been noticed and reacted poorly to. 

Lucia had spent the next two days scoping out the Dursley residence, baffled when she saw Harry during the day when his uncle was away but at no other times. She could not see where he went during the rest of the day, but she had a feeling she was not going to like it.

Harry’s daily health reports continued to come in with no extra reports between them, and they showed that, while Harry’s health was incredibly terrible for his age, it was deviating very little from what his normal appeared to be. Then the weekend began, and the Saturday night report showed that Harry’s health was deteriorating far more rapidly than it had during the week. The boy’s already low weight had decreased even more, his bones were weaker, his body fat content was nearly at zero, his muscles were deteriorating, his developing anaemia was more pronounced, and his kidney function was worsening. 

Lucia suspected that the boy had been routinely denied food, but to this degree? He must not have eaten more than a few scraps since before he was initially punished, and had the bare minimum of water (if that). This was absolutely unacceptable.

“Cally!”

A near-silent _pop_ had Cally appearing next to Lucia, and the elf looked disapprovingly up at the book where Lucia had it on a table.

“Yes, Miss Lucy?

Lucia quickly sank to her knees and turned the book so Cally could read it.

“I’m going to need you to go out and buy some very important potions for me, Cally. I have no care for where you get them or how much they cost, but they need to be very good quality. Take them to my cousin’s manor, alright? Ask the elves there where to put them.”

Cally’s ears flopped as she nodded quickly, her disapproval quickly replaced with concern. “Cally can be doing that, Miss Lucy.”

Lucia nodded and snapped the book shut. “Good. I shall write up a list, but if you see anything else you think would be useful then grab it too, okay?”

Again Cally nodded, pleased that her Mistress was so confident in her own abilities and knowledge. Years of learning alongside Mistress Lucy had made Cally a uniquely capable little house elf.

Lucia quickly scribbled out a list, her writing still carefully legible despite the rush. Potions errors were something to be avoided at all costs, especially when the person drinking them was in as poor a condition as young Harry was.

“Here, and hurry to my cousin’s place, Cally.”

Cally took the list and disappeared, leaving Lucia to rush around and collect everything she had been gathering over the last few weeks. With how busy she had been Lucia was grateful her business had yet to suffer, though her sleep and energy certainly had.

Thank goodness her English cousin was placed so prominently in the British Ministry; the pretentious but loyal ass had been surprisingly helpful these last few weeks. 

With a near-silent _crack_ Lucia apparated directly to one of the British Ministry Atrium’s apparation points. With feigned calm she made her way to the wand checkpoint, suppressing the urge to fidget and twitch with ease born of many years of discipline, even though all she wanted was for the apathetic wizard performing the check to hurry the Hell up already. Lucia then proceeded directly to her cousin’s office.

One superficially polite greeting and inquiry to her cousin’s receptionist later and Lucia was quickly and quietly letting herself into her cousin’s office.

“Lucius! Hello dear cousin! Remember me? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you in person! Writing letters has not been nearly enough contact for us.”

The man in question looked up from his stack of paperwork in shock, and Lucia felt the smallest bit of satisfaction that she'd managed to surprise him.

“...Lucia? What are you doing here?”

She grinned, but going by her cousin’s expression of distaste her own smile was less a grin and more an angry snarl. “Well, cousin dearest, I need those papers I asked you for and I need them as quickly as is physically and magically possible.”

Lucius didn’t react beyond a single arched eyebrow, clearly having regained his composure after her unexpected appearance. It had been several years since Lucia and Lucius last seen each other in person, and though the cousins had kept in touch via letters it was very different than meeting face-to-face. That Lucia’s latest letters had been centered around taking advantage of Lucius’s position in the British Ministry had only made her cousin curious, as her low opinion of Wizarding Britain was one he was well acquainted with.

“Do you now.”

Unfortunately for Lucius, Lucia did not have time to sate his curiosity or pander to his upper-class expectations and behaviours.

“Indeed I do! I need those guardianship transfer papers, and I need them right away, Lucius.”

“Do you really?”

Lucius looked very unimpressed, though Lucia did not doubt that he had the requested papers within easy reach not too long after she’d first requested them some weeks ago.

“I do, dear cousin, I very much do.”

Being the closet-gossip-queen that he was, Lucius did not miss the opportunity her presence presented to ask a few questions while knowing she was unable to leave.

“I didn’t even know you were in Britain until a few weeks ago and now you're making mysterious requests of me?” His hands were steepled on his desk, head tilted mockingly at her. _“Tut tut,_ Lucia. It's been years, you realize, since we’ve been this friendly.”

Pushing down the hurt that his statement caused Lucia huffed impatiently, and she winced internally as Lucius’s eyes narrowed. He was starting to realize exactly how impatient she was. “I do realize that, Lucius, but I assure you this is very urgent and incredibly important.”

His expression remained infuriatingly calm. “Excellent use of adverbs, Cousin. I remain unconvinced.”

The spike of helpless fury she felt was nearly overwhelming, and inside her head she was cursing up a storm at Lucius for making this so difficult. Realistically, Lucia knew that the entire situation was incredibly odd and suspicious and that Lucius had every right to be asking difficult questions. Emotionally, however, was a different matter.

Harry needed her, and he needed her quickly. Those awful relatives of his could be doing who knows what while she exchanged unhelpful banter with her posh asshole of a cousin.

The pair stared at each other; Lucia not wanting to potentially give anything away considering who the child she was helping was, Lucius not really caring one way or another but willing to wait however long it took to get his cousin to talk.

A few minutes later Lucia finally sighed, her shoulders slumping as she looked down at Lucius’s desk. “I am rescuing a child from an abusive home situation.”

Lucius’s chair creaked a little as he leaned back, expression appraising as he assessed his cousin. While asking for guardianship transference papers did (heavily) imply something to do with a child, Lucius recalled clearly how much Lucia always detested children, even when she was still a child herself. Though perhaps that was more to do with the attitudes of the children she knew back then than anything else... there were only ever two children Lucius was aware of that Lucia had never actively disliked, now apparently three.

“Are you now? And here I thought you hated children.”

Lucia glowered at her cousin, furious that he could be so uncaring and yet knowing that there was no real reason for him to care. He was not the one invested in this, she was.

“Regardless of how much I dislike children I am planning on rescuing this child, Lucius. I will document everything, give copies of memories if I have to, and bring him to the most competent healer I can find and trust, but Lucius… the way he acts, the way he looks, what I've learned of his home life so far… I _need_ to help him.”

Lucius assessed her for another few minutes, and Lucia fought not to just leap over the desk and dig through his drawers until she found the papers herself. She knew he had them, the posh asshole was efficient and cunning and was likely only stalling so that he could infuriate her and reinforce how important he was. He would help her, she was family, but he would be the largest dick possible while doing so.

Eventually though Lucius dipped his head in acknowledgement, “Very well, I see you are determined to go through with this.”

Tentatively hopeful, Lucia felt herself straighten up. “I am.”

With a quiet sigh Lucius sat up and opened one of the many drawers on his side of the desk. After feeling a brief flare of magic Lucius pulled out a small stack of papers and he rifled through them quickly before placing them on the desk in front of Lucia. When she went to reach for them he rested his hand on top of hers. “Bring the child to the manor when you can, Lucia. Narcissa is a very qualified healer, and will do her job regardless of your history.”

She smiled, pleased that Lucius still cared enough to open his home to her despite not knowing who exactly she was rescuing (and despite her current relationship (or lack thereof) with Narcissa). 

Of course, seeing as he was the one who had gotten her the papers and may be required to back her up in the future...“Won't that appear biased?” She smiled at him and kept her hand in his, “You are my favourite cousin, after all.”

He rolled his eyes, expression clearly showing how appreciative he was of her doubt. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Cousin. Narcissa will assess your child and bring in outside help as needed. The specialists she can call on are highly regarded enough that any biases will be overlooked in favour of their skills.”

Lucia grinned, ignoring any doubt that things would be so easy, and turned her hand so she could squeeze Lucius’s, “Thank you so much, Lucius.”

Again he rolled his eyes, but she could tell he was pleased. “Thank me after the child is safely and irreversibly in your care, Cousin.”

Standing slowly and tucking the papers into an expanded and secured inner pocket of her jacket, Lucia felt like dancing. Finally, she could help Harry.

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is what I had in mind when I said sinkhole:  
> [ https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/karst-landform/ ](https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/karst-landform/)
> 
> Scroll down to the "Karst and Glaciation" section for the mention of Nahanni Karst and the Mackenzie Mountains, which is the general area I'm referring to here.
> 
> Thoughts? Sorry this isn't such a Harry-centric chapter. Gotta set things up and get all that paperwork crap out of the way. Life sucks, in part due to excessive paperwork.
> 
> All the medical bits were important, but not essential if any of it went over your head (which I hope it didn't, please let me know if it did because that wasn't my intention at all). I very sincerely wish that there was something like that monitoring band in actual hospitals and health centres, but since there's not I can throw magic at the idea and dream.
> 
> Also, if anyone was wondering _why did you pick Lucius Malfoy to be the asshole rich cousin_ or some variation thereof, I needed an influential family member for Lucia to have in Britain so that I could do hand-wavey things like "request guardianship papers" and have it be even slightly plausible. I know nothing about actual adoption stuff, nor transfers of guardianship, and I especially don't know about how it works in Britain in the 1980s. Lucius' maternal side of the family is essentially nonexistent in canon outside of the fact that Abraxas had a wife and had at least one child with her, so I just shoved some characters into gaps that were already there.  
> I (usually) like Lucius as a character. He's been written so many different ways in fics, I wanted to play with him a little.


	7. Like an *insert colour here* Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucia gets mad.  
> I still don't understand paperwork or child custody laws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image for this chapter can be found here:  
> <https://www.elitedaily.com/entertainment/film/rent-harry-potter-cardboard/1809452>

HP

Looking back on this particular chain of events Harry would tell people that it was entirely expected and not at all surprising. 

That would be a lie, of course. 

At seven years old and having only met her a few times before, those occasions being somewhat brief, it would have been entirely impossible for him to have any kind of accurate predictions about how Lucia would react to meeting Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. 

Later, Harry would find out that Lucia had been suspicious of how often what Harry had taken to calling the Lucia Band she had given him was activating to protect him. She was also worried about how his already poor health was deteriorating so rapidly. Thus, the reason she arrived when she did and in the manner she did. 

Three days after Uncle Vernon discovered the band and his punishment began the Dursley’s were having a peaceful, Harry-free dinner. The day was a Sunday. Harry was lying with his pillow over his head to block out the smell of his bucket. Aunt Petunia had been shockingly nice and let him empty it early in the morning, so the smell wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still pretty terrible. Luckily Harry had had years to get used to this particular punishment and all the unpleasantness it entailed, but it was still disgusting every time he had to endure it. 

There was a knock at the door that interrupted the Dursley’s dinner, and Harry heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia muttering about how they weren’t expecting visitors. Nonetheless Harry heard Aunt Petunia quickly get up and click past the cupboard with her loud indoor heels. Harry heard quiet voices as the door opened, and he shoved his head further under his pillow. Regardless of who it was Harry doubted they’d care about the Dursley’s delinquent relative, even if they bothered enough to somehow find out about the cupboard. 

Maybe the person at the door would somehow catch some of the smell coming from the bucket. Then Aunt Petunia would have to explain why her entryway smelled a bit like a nasty toilet. 

Then the voices started getting louder, and Harry heard the heavy shuffling of Uncle Vernon walking past the cupboard, his distinctive voice joining in with the others. 

“I will not ask again!” 

The pillow nearly fell to the floor as Harry raised his head in shock. 

That was Lucia’s voice, and she sounded furious. 

LJ

Lucia stalked out of her house in a righteous fury, Dionysus closing the door behind her before sprinting in the direction of Harry’s house. The kneazle had also been getting concerned about the boy, Lucia had seen him scoping out the house in an attempt to get inside and find Harry without being noticed. Unfortunately he had been unsuccessful, but that didn’t matter now. 

Lucia was going to find out what was going on, no matter how she ended up having to go about it. 

A few minutes later Lucia was panting lightly, her determined stride through the muggle neighbourhoods was meant for closer-together areas, not for distance walking, and she was a little out of breath. 

Taking a moment to gather herself, Lucia gripped the guardianship papers in her hand tightly before letting her fingers unclench. A steady hand knocked thrice on the door, and Lucia waited as she heard the loud heels of someone, presumably Harry’s Aunt, walking towards the door. 

“Good evening, can I help you?” 

The woman had a tight smile, Lucia could see the strain around her eyes and the forced nature of her pleasant expression. This woman was resentful of Lucia’s presence already. 

“Yes, actually, you can.” A wide, fake smile stretched Lucia’s mouth. “I happen to be looking for your lovely nephew, I haven’t seen him in a few days and I’m a little worried about him.” 

The woman’s expression blanked for a heartbeat before she sneered, upper lip curling to show her perfectly white teeth. “The little terror is exhausted after a day of playing outside, I’m afraid.” She eyed Lucia up and down suspiciously, “Why are you asking? How do you know my nephew? It cannot be school related, it’s the middle of summer.” 

Lucia tilted her head to look down at the unpleasant woman, “Your nephew is friends with my cat and comes to visit every so often,” she stated bluntly. “When he didn’t appear I grew concerned.” Lucia rolled her shoulders and obviously adjusted her grip on the papers in her hands. “I’m also here for other reasons, ones I doubt you would appreciate me addressing on your doorstep. They concern the current health of your nephew.” 

Harry’s Aunt reluctantly stepped back, eyes wide and lips pursed, giving her a horse-like appearance. “Do come in Mrs-?” 

Lucia smiled again as she stepped into the hall, closing the door gently behind her. “Call me Ms. Jauncey. And your name is?” 

“Petunia Dursley.” The woman grimaced as she answered, undoubtedly compelled to do so by her adherence to normalcy and desire to conform to social niceties. 

“Excellent. Now, your nephew-” Lucia hid her grin as Dionysus silently bolted up the stairs to search for Harry’s room, completely unnoticed by Mrs. Dursley. 

“The boy is perfectly fine! Both he and this family are perfectly normal!” The woman protested, glancing back over her shoulder as her large husband entered the hall. 

“Who might you be?” He asked, looking as though he were entirely unsure of how he should proceed and trying to hide that fact through false confidence and bluster. 

Lucia decided to cut to the chase. 

“My name is Lucia Jauncey. I’m a witch, born in Canada but I moved here not too long ago. I met and have grown fond of young Harry, and, having seen his deplorable state of health, grew suspicious and decided to confront you about it.” 

The duo gaped at her, looking appallingly dumbfounded that someone would actually dare to bring up concerns about their nephew to them in their own household, to their faces. 

Lucia tilted her head and assessed what she could see of the house from her position just inside the closed front-door. Stairs leading to upper-level rooms, a hallway with doors leading to a living room, kitchen, and dining room presumably, and a small closet underneath the stairway for shoes and the like. 

Then Dionysus came back down, and this time he was noticed by Petunia Dursley. 

“You brought one of those freak creatures into my household!” She shrieked, hand whipping out to point at Dionysus. 

Lucia raised an eyebrow, “Not what I call him, but I suppose the answer is technically yes.” Lucia took a deep breath and frowned as Dionysus sat in front of the small shoe closet and stared at the door. Maybe the smell of Harry's shoes was stronger there than his scent elsewhere? The house did look overly-cleaned, likely using muggle chemicals with harsh smells. “Now I’ll not be asking this twice so I suggest you answer me properly the first time, Mrs. Dursley.” Lucia met and held eye contact with the woman, ignoring her husband as his face started to turn red. “Where is Harry Potter.” 

The woman’s lips thinned and her eyes flicked down and to the left. 

The cupboard. 

Pressure was building in her chest as Lucia stared at the only possible location in that direction. The shoe cupboard. 

“I’ll not ask again!” She stated, trying desperately not to scream the question in this pathetic woman's face. 

Surely not? The shoe cupboard? 

“Meow.” 

Dionysus stared at the door as if waiting for a response and it was all Lucia could do not to let her magic loose on these muggles when a quiet knock answered him. 

“Now, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,” Lucia said quietly, enjoying how the two began to look scared at her tone, “I have a request to make of you, and if you hold your own health in any regard at all you will be complying with it.” She could only imagine what her own expression was right now, but she hoped that it frightened these despicable muggles horribly. 

“These,” she said, holding up the papers in her hands, “are guardianship papers for young Harry, and you will be signing them this evening.” 

“But first,” she pushed past the duo, ignoring how Mr. Dursley stumbled back into the wall at the force of it, “I believe I will see how Harry is doing.” 

She didn’t see the pair exchange shocked and panicked glances, but with a quick wave of her wand the shoe closet was open. 

The first thing she noticed was the smell. The sharp stench of urine hit her nose like a wall and she barely kept from recoiling. The room was dark, the only light being what reached it from the hall; the small light bulb hanging from the ceiling had a large crack in it and was likely broken. There were a few items scattered on the tiny shelves, placed carefully around the electrical box and wires running up the tallest wall. 

Then she saw Harry, and the distant sound of shattering pottery went unheeded as she took in his current state. 

The boy’s clothes were ripped at the shoulder and stained in numerous places, his glasses were so smudged and greasy she would be surprised if Harry could see much of anything through them (and that was assuming they were the correct prescription to begin with), and the skeletal face staring up at her was pale and lined with more exhaustion than any child should ever have to experience. The aluminum band was nowhere to be seen, but Lucia knew Harry was still wearing it. 

There were no bruises on him, but had she not given him the bracelet she had no doubt that would not be the case. 

She fell to her knees, the sound was loud in the deathly silent hallway. 

“Harry.” She carefully, slowly reached out a hand towards the boy and let it hover just above his sunken cheek. He tilted his head so it brushed against her hand. 

“What do you think about leaving this place?” 

Harry froze, and Lucia worried for a moment that this was too much for him. She knew she was moving much too quickly with the boy, this was only their fifth meeting for goodness sake! But she refused to leave him here with these wretched people. 

“Please.” 

She almost didn’t hear his hoarse whisper, it was so quiet. 

“Absolutely not!” 

Mr. Dursley moved forwards aggressively, clearly intent on trying to stop whatever was going on here, but he didn’t move more than a single step forwards before he felt a cold piece of wood pressing hard into his neck; it was pressing so hard that, were it a finger, the man’s pulse would be clearly felt despite the thickness of his neck. 

Lucia’s eyes were glowing grey, “You will be signing these papers, Mr. Dursley. Both you and your wife.” The pair flinched at the barely restrained fury they could hear in Lucia’s coldly steady voice. “I will then take Harry and we will leave this place with no intention of ever returning unless it is to seek retribution for the years of misery you have caused Harry.” 

She turned back to Harry and smiled gently at the boy. “Gather your things, Harry. We will be leaving shortly.” 

With sharp and jerky movements she strode towards the dining room, intent on getting the guardianship papers signed and done with as quickly as possible. She didn’t look back, but kept an ear on the duo to ensure they followed, smirking as they hurriedly stumbled after her. 

Lucia stared at the table full of food, fury coming dangerously close to the surface as she saw how generously the three Dursleys ate while they starved their nephew in a shoe closet. With a careless sweep she brushed several plates onto the floor, lip curling in vicious satisfaction as they broke and spilled food on the floor, creating a mess in the otherwise superficially pristine household. 

She slammed the papers down and turned to glare at the two adults, ignoring the fat child staring at her with his open mouth full of half-chewed food. 

“Sign.” 

The Dursleys exchanged a glance before edging closer to Lucia as though afraid she’d bite if they got too close. While she was angry enough to consider doing so, Lucia had no desire to have such disgusting creatures any closer to her person than absolutely necessary. 

With trembling hands they signed where Lucia indicated, wordlessly giving up all rights to care for one Hadrian James Potter. 

Lucia stared at Mrs. Dursley until the woman met her stare. 

“Is there anything from the boy’s parents that I should be aware of?” 

The woman hesitated then, a pained expression crossing her face. 

“I have some of Lily’s things, and the boy,” she glances briefly back in the direction of the shoe closet, “he came with a letter the night he was left on our doorstep.” 

Eyes narrowed as Lucia continued to stare the woman down. “We will be taking those, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

The three adults in the room knew that, even if the Dursleys did mind, Lucia would be walking out with Lily’s belongings and that letter. 

Mrs. Dursley backed into the hallway before turning and running up the stairs, heels echoing in the otherwise silent household as she moved. 

It was several minutes later that she came down trailing a single large item. It was a magical trunk, and it had the letters ‘LE’ engraved into the dulled silver crest on top. 

“Everything is in here,” Mr.s Dursley said quietly. 

Lucia nodded and, without a word, grabbed the trunk and shrunk it, carefully placing it in her pocket where she wouldn’t lose it. She stalked between the Dursleys to where Harry was standing quietly by the door. The boy was holding a pillowcase full of his belongings, and Dionysus was curled around the boy’s shoulders like a large furry shawl. The pillow case was barely a quarter full if one didn’t include the clearly lumpy and mouldy pillow that was also present. 

Lucia held a hand out to Harry without a word, and waited patiently as the boy slowly took it. She opened the door and stepped into the night, Harry’s pathetically weak grip on her hand reassuring her (and him) that this was actually happening. 

The trio walked forwards until they reached the sidewalk, and Lucia felt Harry pull lightly on her hand. She stopped, and watched him as he stared back at the Dursleys’ home. The curtains on the first floor had all been pulled shut, though lights could still be seen around the edges. 

The front door was closed, and none of the inhabitants were visible. 

Lucia heard Harry’s breath catch, and she knelt down in front of him. 

“Are you really ready to leave with me, Little One?” 

She searched the boy’s face, eyes noting his expressions underneath his starved and gaunt face as he examined her in return. 

He nodded, gripping her hand tighter for a moment. “I am.” 

She forced herself to smile, but felt it gentle when Harry cautiously returned the expression. 

“Then let’s go home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> Fiona Shaw, the actress who plays Petunia Dursley, is ~5'8" (~173 cm) and while I hadn't thought about Lucia's height prior to this particular scene I have her look down at Petunia, so she ends up being around 5'10" or 5'11" (177-180cm). It works pretty well, because that puts her right at Lucius' height (as Jason Isaac, his actor, is 180cm). Also, just because I looked it up, Narcissa (Helen McCrory) is 5'4" (163 cm).   
> I will always be very saddened by the low average height of women, because you are missing out on so many dusty shelf tops.  
> Hugs would be less awkward though... other peoples' faces at your breast height aren't easy to work around.


	8. The Fire is Green (Like Grass, But... You Know... On Fire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot advances through three very different locations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I googled the Jauncey Family Crest, and I imagine it's the same for the magical version of the family. The Jauncey Family is descended from Mary Jauncey, one of the first twelve Aurors in the US. It's Lucia's married family, not her birth family.  
> [ https://www.houseofnames.com/jauncey-family-crest ](https://www.houseofnames.com/jauncey-family-crest)

HP 

Lucia’s house was as plain as Harry remembered, and he stood carefully in the middle of her living room to keep from dirtying any of the floral furniture. 

Lucia smiled at him, and Harry did his best to smile back even though he was very tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. Everything was sore and achy, and his stomach hurt so much he knew he’d throw up if he ate anything. 

“Now, Harry, I understand that you’re probably very tired,” Lucia knelt down in front of him and carefully placed her hands on Harry’s shoulders, like she was worried he’d break if she moved too quickly, “but I need you to come with me somewhere for a little bit, okay? We’re going to see a healer to get you checked out.” 

Harry let his expression drop, exhaustion weighing him down. “Can I sleep first?” 

Lucia looked very close to giving in, Harry’s legs were shaking and he was swaying gently from side to side, but then she shook her head. “Once you get checked over you can sleep as long as you want, Harry. I don’t want something bad to happen to you that I could have easily prevented. You have been through enough already,” she picked carefully at the rip in Harry’s shirt, “now is the time to start healing you.” 

Harry took a deep breath. “Okay. How far away does your cousin live?” 

With a smirk and a glance at her fireplace Lucia carefully stood up, “No idea. We’re travelling the magical way, and I do not need to know how far away my cousin lives to get us there.” 

Harry had his mouth open to reply when Cally quietly popped into the room. 

“Miss Lucy, yous cousin is saying he and his wife is being ready for you.” 

Cally stared at Harry, large eyes widening in concern as she stared at him. 

“Thank you, Cally. I’ll be taking Harry through the floo now, keep an ear out for me but otherwise stay here, okay? You did well today, thank you dear.” 

Cally puffed up her little chest in pride. “Cally was happy to help Miss Lucy and Little Master Harry.” Then she disappeared with another quiet pop. 

Lucia rested a gentle hand on Harry’s back and lead him towards the fireplace. 

“Now, Harry, this is going to be very strange for you.” She knelt in front of him again, a small pouch in her hands. “This,” she held up the pouch, “is full of something called floo powder.” She took a pinch and let it settle in her palm for Harry to see. “Wizards use floos to travel between places, and to activate a floo you have to use this floo powder. Think of floos like telephones, but instead of carrying messages from one place to another they carry people.” 

Harry stared at the large fireplace doubtfully. “Wouldn’t you burn?” 

A quiet huff escaped Lucia, “Not at all. The fire isn’t lit with real fire, though what looks like green flames do appear with the use of floo powder. Here,” she pulled Harry back a step from the fireplace, “let me show you.” And with that, she threw the small pinch of dusty powder down hard on the bottom of the fireplace. 

The fireplace was lit up in green as flames greener than any grass Harry had seen on Privet Drive flared up before settling down to a low burn, small flickers flaring up close to the bottom of the fireplace. 

Lucia gently grabbed Harry’s hand, the one not clutching his pillowcase full of belongings, and pulled it down towards the small flames. 

“It doesn’t actually burn, see?” She held their joined hands above the flames, then let go of Harry’s and put her hand directly in the flames. When she didn’t start screaming and her hand continued to look fine despite the little green flames curling around it Harry slowly kneeled down and put his hand in too. 

He stared in awe at the flames, his exhausted brain trying to comprehend the impossibility of green fire that wasn’t burning him. 

Lucia smiled down at him and gently pulled him up and back. “Now, actually travelling through the floo is very different from just sticking your hand into it. What is going to happen is the magic that connects one floo to the other will pull you upwards and feel like it is spinning you around a little. Then, when you’ve reached the other fireplace, you will be plopped down into it with a bit of force.” Lucia looked down at him, and Harry felt like she was thinking really hard about sending him alone through a magical fireplace for the first time ever when he was so tired. 

“Maybe,” she glanced between him and the fireplace, “maybe this time I will go with you, okay? It’s a little tricky going with two people, but it’s certainly doable.” 

Harry just nodded. At this point he was so tired he didn’t really care what happened as long as it didn’t ever end in him going back to the Dursleys. He went to take a step but stumbled and would have slammed his face down on the brick fireplace floor if Lucia hadn’t caught him. 

She picked him up and rested him on her hip, and Harry was sure he would have been very embarrassed that he was small enough to slouch and curl down to rest his head on her shoulder if he had more energy. 

“Don’t panic now, Harry.” Lucia placed the pouch back on top of the fireplace and grabbed a handful of the floo powder, throwing it down on the fireplace floor hard and shouting “Malfoy Manor Family Reception - Serpens”. 

“Hold your breath dear,” she said, her chest expanding under Harry’s arm as she did just that. Harry quickly copied her, and she stepped into the fireplace. 

His arms immediately tightened as everything went dark and green and it felt like the whole world was turned upside down and sideways and backwards and forwards and everything was spinning. 

Then it stopped abruptly and everything was bright again. Harry felt his throat burning, but his stomach was hurting so much from emptiness already that nothing came up. 

He took a few deep breaths and managed to look up, surprised to see several people dressed in strange clothes waiting for them. 

“Cousin,” said a man with shoulder length shiny white hair as he walked towards them, “I am pleased you finally showed up. I was beginning to worry.” 

Lucia adjusted her grip on Harry but didn’t put him down, and Harry was happy he could just rest on her and not have to worry about anything. His glasses were cutting into his cheek as he rested his head against Lucia’s shoulder again. 

Despite not knowing her for very long Harry felt like he could trust her. There was something inside of him that was making him feel safe around her, and he trusted it. It was coming from the same place in his chest where he felt sick when Uncle Vernon was angry and going to do something to him, or when Aunt Petunia got that look in her eye that said she was thinking of some horrible way to punish him, only better because it made him feel warm and fuzzy instead of cold and shaky. 

“I told you I would bring him here to be checked on, Cousin. I know the importance of doing this properly, especially given who the boy is.” 

Harry’s eyelids started to flutter shut, exhaustion taking hold of him. Now that he was safely away from the Dursleys he could feel himself relaxing. 

“And what, dear Cousin, do you mean by that?” 

Harry shifted as Lucia tightened her grip on him. 

“Why Lucius, do you not recognize Harry Potter?” 

A gasp came from the pretty lady behind where the blurry outline of Lucia’s cousin was standing. “This is the Boy-Who-Lived?” 

The pretty lady had a pretty voice, Harry thought. It was only when he felt and heard Lucia laugh that he realized he must have said that out loud. 

“Well now Harry, I’m glad you think so. Believe it or not you are related to the pretty lady, and her name is Narcissa.” 

Harry forced his eyes open and peered at the pretty lady. “Like the flower?” 

He saw the two new adults smile. “Yes Mr. Potter,” said Lucia’s cousin, “like the flower.” 

“That’s nice,” Harry whispered as he closed his eyes. 

“She’s going to do a check-up on you, Harry. Is that okay?” 

Lucia’s voice was nice and comforting and it was helping Harry fall asleep, but he knew she’d want an answer. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. Everything felt heavy, and no matter how much he wanted to meet Lucia’s cousin and the pretty lady Narcissa he couldn’t force his eyes to stay open any more. 

The last thing he heard was Lucia’s warm voice, though he couldn’t understand what it was saying because he was already falling asleep. 

LJ 

Lucia stared sideways at her new charge for a second, watching his frail little body rise and fall with each breath, before turning her focus to Lucius. 

“Do you see him, Cousin?” 

The man in question was eyeing the clothes Harry was wearing as if he would refuse the duo entrance to keep his manor from becoming contaminated. 

His voice was heavy with disdain now that the child was asleep. “I do indeed, Cousin.” 

Luckily Narcissa brushed past her husband without a word and came to a stop directly in front of Harry. “Poor child,” she whispered, assessing him as best she could while he was curled around Lucia. 

Lucia tilted her head forwards in a shallow nod, trying not to disturb Harry even though she suspected he was already deeply asleep. “He was being starved in a cupboard, I have the records of his health for the past few weeks in one of my notebooks. I suspect it has been going on since he was,” here Lucia hesitated, “...given... to his relatives. They are muggles related to his mother, and I suspect they hate magic and everything to do with it, Harry included.” 

Narcissa looked furious on Harry’s behalf, “Bring him to the medical hall, quickly.” She turned and started stalking away, her posture hard and furious as she clicked across the gleaming marble floor in her heels. Lucius stared after her with an unreadable expression, but Lucia didn’t care much what her cousin thought at the moment. She could worry about Lucius after Narcissa had seen to Harry. 

“Thank you for sending those potions with your elf, by the way,” Narcissa called over her shoulder. Her pace slowed slightly so that Lucia could catch up. 

“I’m just glad Cally got them to you so quickly.” 

Lucius snorted. “You are foolish to have asked so much of an elf for something such as this.” 

Had her hands been free Lucia would have been more than happy to slap her favourite cousin. “My dear Lucius,” she said, her tone sickly sweet, “you may think me a fool all you like, I will continue to care for Cally like my own family and your petty words certainly will not be stopping me.” 

The man scoffed but kept quiet as he walked beside her, his eyes glancing over at Lucia and Harry every five steps like clockwork. 

“Place the boy here,” Narcissa walked through an open side door and pointed at the first bed of a long row of them, wand flicking to turn down the covers even as she started summoning and placing potions at the bedside table. 

Lucia carefully lay Harry on the bed, prying his fingers from the pillowcase full of his belongings, only partially surprised by how he’d managed to keep his grip even while sleeping. 

“Do you know anything about healing?” Narcissa asked, her wand waving in a complex pattern over Harry that caused him to start glowing red. 

Lucia shrugged, “I know enough to have tweaked the runes used on health monitoring bracelets patients in hospitals and health centres have to wear when I put them on Harry’s bracelet, and I know a few runes to help improve and fortify someone’s health, but not too much more. It is not my job to fix people, I just help reduce their likelihood of getting sick or injured in the first place.” 

Narcissa nodded, eyes flicking over the parchment hovering in front of her that was steadily getting longer and longer. Her shoulders were rigid and her wand hand actually froze as she continued to read. 

“I’m going to need to call in a pediatrician, one that specializes in child abuse cases,” she said. 

Fear washed over Lucia, her heart beating a mile a minute. 

“I will floo Healer Marks.” Surprisingly it was Lucius who quickly strode to the room’s emergency floo, confidently making the call. Lucia waited in tense silence as Narcissa continued to cast spell after spell on Harry, each one giving a result that made Narcissa frown just a little harder. 

What felt like an hour later Lucius stood up and another man flooed in. His hair was unbrushed and his clothes were rumpled and askew, as though he’d put them on quickly after being woken up, but the man rushed over to Narcissa and the two started talking in urgent tones. They were mentioning spells and potions and all sorts of medical words that made Lucia’s head spin. 

She jumped as a hand rested on her shoulder. 

“Cousin, you should sit down.” 

Lucia looked to her left, and she saw Lucius was actually looking concerned for her. A tired smile crossed her face as she let him guide her to the adjacent bed, well out of the way of the two healers as they fluttered about Harry like large, efficient hummingbirds. 

“You are too kind, Cousin.” 

Lucia sat down and swayed slightly, hands gripping the edge of the bed with enough force to turn her knuckles white as she stared at Harry’s frighteningly small and quiet form. 

There was a quiet pop and Lucia looked to her left, surprised to see Cally standing there with Dionysus and Abaddon in her arms. The kneazle looked comically large, his long fur on end as he jumped down and raced over to Lucia; Abaddon was far more dignified and sleek in comparison. Lucia huffed as Dionysus jumped onto her lap, curling up and joining her in watching the healers work on Harry. Abaddon jumped up to sit next to her on the side opposite Lucius, tucking his front paws underneath himself and staring intently at the healers’ movements. Cally disappeared with a searching glance at Harry, and everyone ignored Lucius as he glared at the spot she’d appeared in. 

“Damn independent elf,” he muttered, and Lucia only ignored him because he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her lean on him. 

The trio watched in worried silence as several potions were spelled directly into Harry and as more diagnostic and healing spells were cast. 

Well over an hour later the two started to slow down, their posture relaxing and their movements becoming less frantic. Lucia was still staring at Harry, her eyes sore and her legs slightly numb as Dionysus had yet to move since curling up on her lap. 

Narcissa leaned back, hands on her hips, and let out a groan as her back cracked. Healer Marks cracked his neck and shook out his arms, expression tired as he walked over to where Lucius, Lucia, and the two felines waited. 

“First I want to tell you the boy will be fine.” 

Lucia kept from slumping against Lucius, waiting for the bad news. Saying ‘first’ implied there was a second, and given the state that Harry had been in Lucia didn’t have high hopes that the boy was now perfectly healthy. 

“Second thing is he’s extremely malnutritioned, and there are several resulting health concerns that we will be able to address in the coming weeks, months, and likely years, to help resolve them.” 

Narcissa stood next to Healer Marks, her expression grave. “We have documented everything we found and did, and I strongly recommend either reporting the situation now or starting a file to keep the information for later use.” Her eyes narrowed, “Regardless, I hope you have plans to punish the muggles that did this.” 

With an inaudible groan Lucia sat up straight, pulling slightly away from Lucius. “I do have plans, and once I have full, undisputable custody of Harry I will certainly be pressing charges.” 

The Healers nodded, Narcissa in vicious pleasure and Marks in exhaustion. 

“If you don’t mind, I had just come off a 12 hour shift at St. Mungo’s and would like to get some sleep before I go back tomorrow morning.” 

Lucius held up a hand to stop the man. “Anything else we should be informed of before you leave, Healer Marks?” 

Shaking his head Healer Marks handed two large rolls of parchment to Narcissa. “Those are his prescriptions, his assessment notes and results, and a basic outline of his care plan going forwards. I’d suggest finding a potioneer who is certified to brew medical grade potions and bringing them in to collaborate with, but otherwise Narcissa is capable of taking over primary care from here and informing me if anything major comes up.” 

Lucius nodded at the healer, “Then by all means, Healer Marks, you may take your leave. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

Lucia stood up and shook the man’s hand gratefully, “Yes, thank you Healer Marks. I am most grateful, and I’ll be sure to let Harry know how you’ve helped him once he wakes.” 

The man smiled, “Best of luck to you both.” Then he turned and walked slightly unsteadily towards the floo, stumbling into it as the flames flared high. 

The four beings currently awake in the large medical hall all stared at Harry, watching him slowly breathe. Dionysus hopped off Lucia’s lap and curled up at the foot of Harry’s bed, glowing eyes never leaving the boy. 

“You should get some sleep, Cousin.” 

Lucia looked over at Lucius, “Can I stay here? I would rather not leave Harry to wake alone in a strange place.” 

Narcissa gently rested a hand on Lucia’s shoulder, expression unreadable. “He shouldn’t wake for at least a few days, we had to put him into a healing sleep to ensure he gets a good amount of rest right now while all the potions and spells he’s been given and cast on do their jobs unhindered. However,” here she looked at Lucius briefly before staring again at Lucia, “if you really want to sleep here we won’t stop you.” 

Carefully laying a hand on top of Narcissa’s Lucia smile gratefully at her, “Thank you Narcissa, I would very much appreciate that.” She turned to Lucius. “And thank you as well, Cousin. You’ve done so much for me, I’m terribly grateful for it all.” 

Lucius huffed and looked away, obviously uncomfortable with such intense, genuine thanks. “You are family, Lucia.” 

She smiled, and he reluctantly smiled back. “Regardless, both of you have my thanks. I have no doubt that, once he wakes, you’ll have Harry’s thanks as well.” 

“We should leave you to get some rest.” Narcissa backed away and looked over at Harry again, “I have a monitoring charm on him, it’s not as in-depth as the bracelet you have on him but it will do the job it needs to. We will leave you to sleep.” 

Lucius stood with a groan. “Rest well, Cousin. We shall speak more in the morning.” 

An eye roll answered him. “Always moving forwards, never just resting, honestly cousin you should sleep in tomorrow.” 

He scoffed, “And leave you to wander the manor and get lost? I think not.” He started walking towards the doors, an arm gently resting on Narcissa’s back as she walked next to him. “Dobby will be the one to answer should you call, dear Cousin! Good night.” 

With a tired grin Lucia started getting ready to sleep. She knew Lucius had assigned Dobby to her because he wanted to irritate her, but she honestly liked Dobby. The crazy little elf was hilarious when he wasn’t trying to do more than was asked of him. 

Harry didn’t move beyond the steady rise and fall of his chest, and Lucia fell asleep on her right side facing him, allowing herself to drift off to the sound of his quiet breaths. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> Tbh I don't have a lot more of Harry's storyline written in anything resembling chapter-format beyond this. There is a lot of Lucia's backstory though, which will be posted in a separate work as part 2 of _Cats Shed Like Woah_.


	9. You Just Woke Up and Now There's Cat Fur in Your Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we all just need a good cry.  
> And cats. (We all need cats (or _*shudder*_ dogs) too.)
> 
> I imagine the "hospital wing" looks a lot like the first image that can be found here (just with fewer beds, and spaced further apart):  
> [ https://www.nps.gov/yose/learn/historyculture/navy-hospital.htm ](https://www.nps.gov/yose/learn/historyculture/navy-hospital.htm)
> 
> I wonder if anyone had to worry about the wax from those candle-lit chandeliers landing on them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and emotional.

HP 

Harry felt like he was floating on a cloud. The world was softer than he had ever imagined it could be, and nothing hurt at all. Aches that he had never even knew that he still had were gone, his belly wasn’t cramping from emptiness, and he felt like he would be able to move without shaking for the first time he could remember. 

It was blissful. 

It was also too good for Harry to believe, and so he very reluctantly decided to open his eyes. He vaguely remembered Lucia getting mad at Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, but everything after that was blurry and hard to remember. He was almost 100% certain that he wasn’t in his cupboard anymore, he was able to stretch and move and he couldn’t feel a single spider dangling above or crawling on him. 

The first thing he noticed was that there was a lot of natural light coming in through lots of big windows, and that the ceiling was much further away than he was used to seeing outside of the elementary school gym. 

Then there was a big furry face taking up his field of view and Harry only realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses and yet could still somehow see things well when Dionysus started purring and rubbing his face against Harry’s and making it hard to breath through all of his fur. 

“We are pleased to see you awake, Harry.” He turned his head sideways, squinting through Dionysus’s fur and near frantic purring and chirping, eyes landing on Lucia where she was sitting on the bed next to his. She looked tired, and her clothes were wrinkled like she’d slept in them. Abaddon was curled protectively around her shoulders and his eyes seemed to glow as they focused on Harry. She seemed happy though, when she smiled at him, even if she was slumped and looked like there was something much heavier than a cat on her shoulders. “I was getting worried that you would continue to slumber for another week at least.” 

Harry frowned. “Another week?” 

A quiet laugh answered him, “Yes, Harry, another week. It has been seven days today since you left your muggle relative’s house.” 

Harry didn’t answer for a long moment, though he did slowly sit up and curl himself around Dionysus at the mention of his relatives. He (somehow) almost forgot about them. He felt calmer when the kneazle’s purr was rumbling through him, almost as if he was the one purring instead of Dionysus. 

“Where am I?” He asked carefully, deciding that he could think about his relatives later. 

Lucia slowly stood, careful not to dislodge Abaddon, and crossed to sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. “Now, now, Harry,” she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I want you to remember that I had your horrid relatives sign guardianship papers that gave me permission to care for you instead of them. You don’t ever have to go back to them.” 

Harry felt his breath catch, and it wasn’t because of the fur in his face. 

“Never?” He whispered quietly, and it felt harder to breathe when Lucia nodded. 

Something rolled down his cheek, and then another something, and soon Harry was quietly sobbing into Dionysus. The kneazle continued to purr, but twisted so that he could lick Harry’s tears away. Lucia moved too; she slowly stood up and moved so she was behind Harry, between him and the head of the bed, lifted her legs onto either side of Harry so he was sitting between them and his back was to her chest, and wrapped him in a warm hug. He wanted to flinch at first, because he’d never been hugged like this before, never really hugged at all before, but decided it felt nice. He leaned back against her, pulling Dionysus up onto his chest and resting his weight against Lucia. 

She gently rested her head atop his, and he felt Abaddon move somewhere he couldn’t see because his vision was blurry from tears. He had learned how to cry quietly at the Dursleys because they didn’t like listening to his “pathetic bawling”. They said that it was stupid and that boys shouldn’t cry, and that Harry especially shouldn’t cry because the Dursleys were nice enough to take him in when nobody wanted to and there was no reason for him to cry. Ever. 

Harry was surprised that Lucia was letting him cry, and that Dionysus didn’t seem to mind when tears got on his fur, and Harry noticed the blurry black shape of Abaddon at the foot of the bed watching over the three of them when he managed to lift his head, and Harry felt a warm glow in his chest even as he silently cried because he could tell that there were three beings right here that cared for him in a way that he could never remember anybody caring for him before. 

Harry was so happy, and so relieved, and just so full of feelings and joy that it all came spilling out in a steady stream of salty tears from his place of safety and warmth surrounded by beings that cared. 

  
  


LJ 

Watching Harry break down made Lucia feel uncomfortable. She had no idea what to do, but she sat patiently and enfolded Harry in her arms as much as she could, because if she couldn’t say something helpful then at least she could hug Harry to let him know she was there for him. Abaddon, never one for cuddles or emotions, kept watch like a little black statue, and Lucia could see that Dionysus was patiently licking away Harry’s tears. 

Being comforting and offering emotional support wasn’t really something that Lucia did, ever, but apparently she was doing a good job because Harry didn't push her away and actually leaned into her. After a while her abdominal muscles started to ache a little, because she wasn’t learning against anything and was sitting awkwardly and holding up both her weight and Harry’s, but it was worth it as Harry’s near-silent sobbing started to slow and his breathing started to even out. 

A lot of time had passed, Lucia could see the lighting through the window had shifted drastically since Harry first woke up. Cally popped in silently, assessed the situation, and left a small plate of tea and biscuits at Harry’s bedside table before popping away. Since Harry didn’t move, and if Lucia concentrated hard she could hear his mostly even breathing (the occasional hitch in his breath made her chest ache right where her heart was), she assumed he had fallen back into slumber. Such a long emotional outpouring was undoubtedly exhausting, added onto the fact that it was the first time he’d properly woken since being brought to Malfoy Manor, and Lucia wasn’t surprised that he’d fallen asleep. 

She tried to lay down slowly, but her muscles gave out after so long keeping her and Harry upright and they fell back onto the bed with a quiet _thump_. Harry shifted a bit, but settled quickly. His head was awkwardly right on her abdomen, and she assumed that Harry’s back was arching somewhat uncomfortably because he’d been sitting on the bed when she lay down. Lucia tilted her head at a sharp angle, regretting how far up on the bed she’d been sitting and how she was fairly positive that her neck would be awfully sore in a few minutes. She tilted her head up a little, straining to look down at Harry. He was so peaceful, despite their uncomfortable positions, that she didn’t have the heart to move him. 

She would let him sleep for now. There was time later to deal with everything that had happened, and that would need to happen in the future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Typos?  
> I do wish to apologize for all of the run-on sentences, but (to me at least) it helps show how overwhelmed and young Harry is. His thoughts don't end in short sentences, they run on an ramble and mush together a little.  
> I'm curious to hear people's thoughts on my version of the Mafoys, they're always so different in various fics. We'll get to see Draco in the next chapter.


	10. Little Dragons Should Talk Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our duo meet Draco, and are both immediately overwhelmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'm renovating while working full-time, and several of the people I've hired to do floors and plumbing are lying liars who lie.
> 
> The Malfoy Family Motto, sanctimonia vincet semper, apparently means Purity Always Conquers. I am assuming it's meant to mean pure-blood, which is silly considering the info on their Harry Potter Wiki page. Also, maybe it just means pure blonde, because their hair in the movies is blinding.  
> [ https://www.deviantart.com/poxllomonje/art/Malfoy-family-crest-272405589 ](https://www.deviantart.com/poxllomonje/art/Malfoy-family-crest-272405589)

DM 

Mother and father had been acting strange lately. 

Father had been away more than usual, like he usually only was whenever he had Very Important Business to do, or whenever that “horrible rag of a newspaper” started “saying such improper, rude, and tasteless nonsense” about the Malfoy family. 

However, it was mother that had Draco worried. Last time he had been able to tell that mother was worried had been when a group of aurors had, during one of their silly raids, threatened to arrest her for “attempting to consort with dark wizards” after she had submitted a request to see Aunt Bellatrix in Azkaban. As far as Draco knew she had never again been that worried, but maybe that was just because she was really good at hiding it and he wasn’t very good at reading people yet (despite all of his lessons). 

“Dobby!” He whispered loudly, looking nervously around his room just in case he had missed either of his parents hiding somewhere. 

With a near-silent _pop_ Dobby appeared in front of Draco, standing to the side of his bed and bouncing happily up and down so that his big ears flopped around. 

“What can Dobby be doing for Young Master Draco?” 

Draco worriedly hushed Dobby, who looked properly apologetic and repeated his question more quietly and with less bouncing. 

“Dobby, do you know why mother and father have been so worried and busy lately?” 

Dobby froze, eyes going wide and hands reaching up to tug at his ears. 

“Dobby is not to be sharing information about what is going on with Little Master!” 

Draco frowned and slid off the side of his bed so he could sit on the floor before Dobby and look up at the house elf with wide eyes, just like he used to all the time when he was younger and Dobby was teaching him a little about wandless house-elf magic. 

Predictably, Dobby caved in very quickly. He huffed and gently glared at Draco. 

“Dobby is knowing what Little Master is doing and Dobby is proud Young Master is so clever, even if Young Master is being clever with Dobby.” 

Dobby sat in front of Draco and leaned forwards, gesturing for Draco to do the same. His big eyes looked around and Dobby raised a hand and snapped his fingers, a shimmery bubble covering the pair and encasing them in a silent world of their own. 

“Young Master cannot tell Master Malfoy that Dobby is sharing information!” 

Draco nodded solemnly, trying to look as serious as father did whenever he was talking about Business with the Important People he invited over to the manor. 

“Master Malfoy’s cousin is being here for a visit. She is bringing a little boy with her, one who is being taken by Master Malfoy’s cousin from a bad home and who is needing to be healed. We’s all is being asked to make sure the potions gardens is all doing well, and is going out to be getting potions for healings when the cupboards is running low.”* 

A quiet gasp had escaped Draco at the mention of his father’s cousin, ignoring the thought of who the young boy could possibly be. He knew that father had been close to his cousin when they were both much younger, and that father had been forbidden to speak to her after her husband died, though he’d continued to do so until a year or so before Draco was born. Neither mother or father talked about her a lot though, and Draco had always wanted to meet her. She was from Canada! Draco just knew that she would have lots of amazing stories, and maybe even talk in a funny sounding way like people not from Britain did. He knew that she worked with runes, which were super amazing and could be used even without a wand! 

“Dobby,” he asked with obvious excitement, “can you show me where she is?” 

  


HP 

When Harry next woke up it happened much faster than it had the first time. He felt his head moving up and down, and a warm air that smelled pretty bad would blow over his face and make his nose twitch every time he moved down. 

He sniffed, and looked up to see what was blowing on him. Lucia’s sleeping face greeted him. She looked uncomfortable, with her neck at a funny angle, but her arms were wrapped around him and he felt warm and safe and so he decided he would keep laying here for a little while longer. 

Dionysus was also sleeping, and Harry realized his legs were both fairly numb and tingly because the silly cat had fallen asleep on top of Harry instead of on one of the beds. Abaddon was looking majestic and like he was keeping guard at the foot of the bed. Harry wondered if Abaddon ever slept outside of Lucia’s home, or if he was always keeping watch. 

A cool draft of air had Harry and Abaddon looking towards the big doors at the end of the even bigger room lined with beds. A small boy with really pale yellow-white hair snuck into the room and quietly closed the door behind himself after looking like he was whispering to someone just outside the door. 

When the boy turned around he looked surprised to see that he was being watched by both Abaddon and Harry, but he didn’t run away or try to open the door again. Harry slowly sat up, careful not to wake either Dionysus or Lucia. Lucia especially looked like she needed to sleep as much as possible. She had already done so much for Harry, not waking her up was the least that he could do. 

Since Harry had no idea where he was (did Lucia say something about a cousin and a healer?) or who the boy was he stayed quiet. Better to stay quiet and not accidentally offend anyone than speak and possibly get him and Lucia in trouble. Abaddon looked calm and not at all like he did before attacking someone, so Harry figured the boy was at least a little bit nice. 

The pale boy walked towards Harry’s bed with confidence that made Harry nervous and envious. The boy didn’t even look around, he just walked forwards like there was no way he wouldn’t be allowed to do what he wanted. 

“Who are you?” The boy asked, his voice loud in the silence of the big room. 

Harry shifted a little, looking nervously back at Lucia and then back to the boy. Was he allowed to answer? Did Lucia want people to know that she had him? Would Harry be getting her in trouble if he answered? 

“My name is Harry,” he ended up saying. Harry had to be a common name, even in the magical world, right? There were at least three other boys named Harry at his primary school back in Little Whinging. 

The boy looked curious, and stepped closer (as if he completely missed the sight of Abaddon crouching down with his tail tip twitching like it always did when he was thinking about pouncing on something/one). 

“My name is Draco Malfoy. My parent’s own the manor you’re in right now, you know.” The boy, Draco apparently, looked very proud of himself. Harry wondered what he was proud of? His parents being rich (which Draco himself would have had no part of) or the fact that his parents lived in such a huge manor (again, which Draco himself would have had no part of)? Harry had learned that children could be proud of things their parents did, as if it made them better just because they were related (like how Dudley always pretended to know about drills and business because of where Uncle Vernon worked whenever someone mentioned building things). 

Harry knew this wasn’t true of course. If being related to someone important or smart made you important or smart then Dudley would actually know about drills and Harry’s parents would have probably been no-good criminals (because Aunt Petunia always said Harry was a little thief and a freak and worthless and if children were like their parents then parents had to be a little like their children too (sometimes Harry still thought everything that happened since falling into Lucia’s backyard had been a dream)). 

Harry had no idea what to say. In school nobody talked to him, not even the teachers, because Dudley scared the children away and Aunt Petunia scared the adults away, so Harry had no idea how he was supposed to talk to another child and not scare him away (never mind that Dudley would never have talked to him, just by existing Harry had scared away every human in the neighbourhood except for Mrs. Figg and Lucia and he didn’t dare to think that things would be different now). 

“It’s very big,” he ended up saying, because the boy, Draco (what an odd name), was staring at him expectantly and didn’t seem to be blinking very much and it was starting to make Harry uncomfortable. He shifted a little, looking away from Draco’s intense stare, and his movement must have woken Lucia up because the next thing he knew she was groaning and slowly sitting up. 

“It’s too early to be awake,” she muttered, and Harry wanted to smile but he was worried that something strange would happen if he stopped looking at Draco. The boy had switched to staring intently at Lucia, though she didn’t appear to have noticed yet. 

“Aunt Lucia?” 

Lucia froze, and Harry shifted again. He didn’t know what was happening, and he rather hoped it would all stop soon. He just wanted to go back to Lucia’s small-ish house and sleep on her ugly floral couch with Dionysus laying on top of him, purring like he had a small car inside of his chest and getting fur all over Harry’s clothes. Maybe they would even travel somewhere again. Harry knew that, now that he felt so much better, he wouldn’t get tired as quickly if they did go somewhere and would be able to see and learn so much more. Maybe they would even be able to bring Dionysus and Abbadon with them next time. 

“Little Draco?” Lucia’s voice had him paying attention, because she sounded sad and worried and even a little bit scared all at the same time. Harry had never heard Lucia sound like that before, and it made him feel nervous, because he had heard Lucia worried and angry and happy and sad but never _scared._

Draco beamed and stepped closer, so that he was almost within Harry’s reach. “I knew it was you!” He said triumphantly, and Lucia started moving behind Harry, her legs shifting so they hung over the edge of the bed before gingerly standing up and cracking her neck. Then she got down on one knee, and Harry was surprised by how Draco was taller than her when she did that (Harry wasn’t taller than her when she did that). 

Lucia held her arms out, and Draco jumped forwards and hugged her. Harry felt like he had eaten something rotten for a moment, because he had never hugged Lucia like that before (what if she liked Draco more because he wasn’t afraid of giving her long hugs?). 

Then Draco pulled back and started talking, and Harry stopped worrying so much, because Lucia’s eyes went a little out of focus after a few seconds in a way that he knew meant she had stopped paying attention. She never was very good with people who talked a lot. 

“I asked Dobby why mother and father were acting strangely because Dobby knows everything that happens in the manor even if he drives father crazy because father can’t stand how happy Dobby is all the time and Dobby told me that you were here and you brought someone with you and father has talked about you before but I never met you and I really wanted to meet you because he told me that you grew up in one of The Colonies and I think I remember him saying it was Canada which is cool because they also speak French and also that you enchant things and you’ve travelled all over the world and the farthest I’ve ever been is France because there are Malfoys living there that we’re related to somehow so I can speak French too but I can never remember how I’m related to those Malfoys because remembering all your relatives is boring and there are so many to try to remember especially on mother’s side of the family and they all sound a little crazy and sometimes not in a fun way but in a scary way that gets you thrown into Azkaban like Aunt Bellatrix but I don’t think you’re crazy like Aunt Bellatrix mostly because you’re not in prison like she is which is why I really wanted to meet you.” 

Draco took a deep breath (finally) and looked like he was about to start talking again, but he was interrupted by a much deeper voice coming from the open doorway. 

“Draco, enough.” Harry looked over to see one of the people he sort of remembered seeing when Lucia had first brought him through the horrible-spinny-fireplace-travel. What had she called it? Vloo? No… Sloo? Also no… It sounded similar though. He would have to ask her later, most of that night after leaving the Dursley’s was very blurry and hard to remember for him. 

“How did you learn that Lucia was here?” The man demanded, and Harry made sure to sit very still because the man sounded a little mad and he was sort of scary looking and he had a stick thing that he used when he walked over to Harry’s bed that looked very hard and like it would hurt very much if the man every used it to hit someone. 

Dionysus, who had, until this point in time, been sitting silently on Harry’s lap and looking ready to pounce on Draco if he moved closer to Harry, suddenly meowed very loudly. The man looked at Harry and Dionysus before stopping a few steps away from where Draco was still standing just in front of Lucia, and Harry was a little bit happy to see that he was outside of stick-hitting range. The man sighed. “Dobby told you, didn’t he.” 

Harry saw Lucia smirk a little, and he wondered who “Dobby” was. 

Draco turned to fully face the man and stared at the ground, “No he didn’t, I was walking around and I heard something from here and I know it’s almost always empty so I was curious and wanted to see who was there.” 

The man raised an eyebrow (he looks a lot like Lucia when he does that) and stared down at Draco. “Really,” he said, and his voice reminded Harry of the one that his first-grade teacher sometimes used when she absolutely did not believe what one of Harry’s classmates had just told her (like when Emma had decided to smear mud all over Principal Johnson’s car but said that she didn’t know how it happened even though her whole body was covered in mud, or when Alex and Trace had stolen all of Geoffrey’s coloured pencils and said that Geoffrey was a dummy who probably forgot them at home because that’s what dummy-heads do). 

Draco looked nervous, but he stood up a little taller and stared up at his father. “Yes.” 

The man sighed before turning to Lucia. “I blame you for this,” he said, and Lucia scoffed as she stood up with a groan. 

“You cannot possibly blame me for your son’s defence of a house elf, this is the first time I’ve ever met him.” 

Lucius tapped his stick-thing on the floor and looked very grumpy. “You’ve been sending him presents, and your magic must have done something.” 

Lucia sat down next to Harry on his bed, and Abaddon immediately jumped onto her shoulders, not that she seemed to notice, because she was staring up at the man and she looked like the man had said something very silly. “You’re as ridiculous as ever, Cousin.” 

Harry stared at the man, because he remembered Lucia had said that she was named after a cousin once, and maybe this was the cousin? He wanted to ask, but Harry didn’t know the man at all, and Draco was still there, and all the new people plus the unfamiliar space were making him nervous. 

“Lucia?” He asked quietly, not really wanting to draw any attention but feeling like he was very out of place and very much like he would prefer to be at Lucia’s small house (even if all her plants were plastic and her furniture was very ugly and his socks were always covered in cat hair when he stepped on her carpets). 

She immediately looked away from her cousin and at Harry. 

“Yes, Little One?” 

Harry ran his hands through Dionysus’ fur, letting them settle on the kneazle’s back and feel his tiny breaths. 

“Where are we?” 

And Lucia looked surprised for a minute, and then she looked very sorry and she sort of gasped and said “Oh, Harry,” and she turned so her whole body was facing Harry’s and she was completely ignoring Draco and her cousin but Harry found that he didn’t care because she was looking at Harry like she _cared_ and even after everything she’d done for him Harry still had a hard time believing it was all real and that anybody could ever really care about him (and things like magic and travelling through fireplaces and giant manors that children like Draco could brag that his parents’ owned (and walk about so confidently it had to be true) and even just that he was _free from the Dursleys_ made it even that much harder to believe sometimes). 

Then she hugged him, like she had hugged Draco but _better_ because she was hugging _Harry_ and she had rested her head on his shoulder and he could feel her breathing and she wasn’t letting go and she was warm and Dionysus and Abbadon were there and even though Harry didn’t know where he was or what was happening or really who these new people were, he was he wasn’t in pain which he didn’t think had ever happened before and he knew in his heart that he (for the first time that he could remember) was really, truly, _loved._

LJ 

Lucius cleared his throat after about a minute, and Lucia wanted to roll her eyes. She remembered the few times she’d been able to ambush him with hugs when they were younger, and any hug lasting longer than five seconds had always made him fidget and look like he was starting to pray for death. 

Lucia sighed and turned to face Lucius and Draco, resting her chin atop Harry’s head. “Yes, Cousin?” 

Draco looked like he wanted to bounce around the room, he was practically vibrating with curiosity, as if the only thing keeping his feet on the floor was Lucius’ hand resting firmly on his shoulder. 

“I know we discussed your plans earlier, and I do so hate to interrupt,” Lucius said, while sounding very much like there was nothing he would rather do than interrupt her and her horrible displays of (ugh) _emotions,_ “but I do believe that it would be best to get started on certain things sooner rather than later.” 

At this Lucia did roll her eyes, because really one of the reasons Lucius was so eager and accommodating was because he was getting the chance to (metaphorically) drag Dumbledore’s name through some pretty thick shit for the obvious neglect and abuse that Harry had lived through. 

Even if Harry wasn’t the precious “Boy-Who-Lived,” the abuse and neglect of any child, magical or not, was abhorrent and went against everything that many of the old magical families stood for. They may send their squib children to live in the muggle world (where their existence would not taint their precious image) but the parents of such children always made sure those squibs would be with well-off families, with parents that actually _wanted_ and would _care for_ another child, and they almost always had the parents take a blood-oath to do well by the child. Muggles couldn’t be bound by magical oaths or vows because they lacked magic, but they certainly had blood, and regardless of the presence (or lack thereof) of magic blood-oaths could bind anyone, anything, that had blood to give (willingly or not (one of the reasons teaching it was so heavily restricted)). 

Lucia leaned back and looked down at Harry, feeling something in her heart soften as she saw how utterly _content_ he looked being hugged by her. “We are currently in my Cousin’s manor, which is known by many as Malfoy Manor, as that is the family that he is head of. I, personally, dislike the ridiculous amount of alliteration present in Wizarding Britain, and call it Malfoy Hall.” Lucius grimaced, and Lucia grinned at his discomfort. She had called the manor a hall ever since she learned that there was a Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire** that looked surprisingly similar to her Cousin’s precious home. 

“Yes, well,” he said, displeasure clear to hear, “you always did enjoy irritating me.” 

With a laugh Lucia slowly disentangled herself from Harry, helping him to stand next to his bed. “We shall have to get ourselves presentable, and then I can take you to see the most popular wizarding market place in all of Britain.” 

Harry looked up at her with wide eyes, “Wizarding marketplace?” 

“Diagon Alley!” Everyone looked at Draco, who blushed and looked at the ground for less than half-a-second before looking proud that he’d know the place Lucia was talking about. “It’s called Diagon Alley, and it’s connected to Knockturn Alley, Vertik Alley, Horizont Alley, Diurn Alley, Side Way, and some others that I’ve forgotten.” 

Harry looked a little confused. “Are they all named after directions and times of day?” 

Poor little Draco looked confused. “Directions? Times of day? What do you mean?” 

Lucius slowly closed his eyes and shook his head, and Lucia did her best to keep from looking like she was laughing at her cousin. 

With a nervous look up at her Harry took a deep breath. “Well, most of the places you just mentioned are directions, but with the front bit separated so the word ‘alley’ can be a location instead of just part of the word. Like, Diagon Alley is just diagonally, right? And same with the others, they’re just the words nocturnally, vertically, horizontally, diurnally, and sideways but made to sound like proper places.” 

Draco looked adorably baffled and betrayed, like he couldn’t possibly believe that such famous places were named as such. 

Lucia decided to chime in, slightly curious to see how long she could get away with indirectly teasing her cousin for Draco’s (still adorable) obliviousness. “There are also smaller alleys that describe the types of shops that are on them, such as Romantic Alley, Artistic Alley, Chronologic Alley, Historic Alley, Economic Alley, Linguistic Alley, Nutrition Alley, Aesthetic Alley, Practick Alley, Botanic Alley, and Judici Alley, to name a few.” 

Draco looked gobsmacked, his mouth open and his eyes wide as he stared at Lucia. “Woah,” he whispered. Then he bounded forwards, easily ducking out from under Lucius’ hand. “You’re so smart Aunt Lucia!” 

Draco practically latched onto the arm she didn’t have wrapped around Harry, and she gave Lucius a panicked look. He just smirked (bastard) and let both his hands rest on top of that pretentious cane he started carrying around a few years ago. No help would be coming from him, it seemed, and Harry was cautiously peering around her to look at Draco, who had yet to stop talking about how great she was and how happy he was to meet her. 

Then, just as she was seriously contemplating leaning over enough that Abaddon would fall on top of Draco’s head, Narcissa strode into the room. 

“I have been looking everywhere for you two!” She glared at Draco and Lucius. “Breakfast was almost half an hour ago.” 

Now, Lucia had seen many amusing things during her life, but she would always put the joy at seeing her cousin (big, strong, arrogant, an essentially immovable object when he so wished to be) bow to the will of Narcissa (small, wirey, dangerous, the unstoppable force to counter Lucius) so quickly. He ducked his head as she neared, and Narcissa pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, causing Draco to make a funny face and quietly say “eww” under his breath. 

Narcissa turned to Lucia then, “You will be joining us, I presume?” 

Any business at Diagon Alley, and thus, Gringotts, could wait until after a good meal, especially for Harry. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

With only a slight grimace at how dreadfully casual Lucia’s response was Narcissa whirled about and strode out of the room, Lucius trailing after her after looking over to make sure Lucia was following (and leaving her to Draco’s incessant questioning, the utter _asshole)._ Harry trotted along beside her, quietly examining the opulence around him as they walked through the halls. 

Dionysus had decided to walk, and so was keeping pace next to Harry, while Abaddon remained around her shoulders, his tail in the perfect position to flit underneath her nose and make her sneeze, or to get just close enough to her mouth that any attempts to tell Draco to _shut up already how can I answer your questions when you won’t stop talking_ were thwarted by fur in her mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> *Writing a house elf's speech pattern is hard for more than one or two words. Please forgive me for my terrible attempt.  
> ** Hardwick Hall is a real place, and, according to the HP Wiki, is the location that was used to film the exterior shots of Malfoy Manor in the movies. 
> 
> I have never been a very talkative person, though I have met/taught kids who really (really) are. They're who I drew inspiration from Draco from. I imagine that he's so sure of his place that, unless told otherwise by his parents or in a situation they've told him to be quiet in, while he's young he has almost no filter at all.  
> Part of the "cool aunt" thing also stems from a much younger cousin of mine, who has decided my brother is who he aspires to be in life (to my brother's bafflement) and it's hilarious. My brother has panicked more than once about how he's supposed to try to talk to/impart wisdom upon a child who idolizes him on the kid-version of facebook messenger when said kid's mom is probably reading through all of his conversations.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work-in-progress! I wrote most of it after my 3rd year of nursing school (...summer of 2018 I think) and have added bits and pieces to it ever since then. If you have suggestions or comments feel free to share, maybe they'll spark my muse :)


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